


The Missing Piece

by therantygeek



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Other, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:33:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therantygeek/pseuds/therantygeek
Summary: As if having a dual soulmark wasn’t enough of a curse, what hope does a girl have of a normal life when the birthdates it shows are a hundred years ago?





	1. Steve

Another day, another slew of customers and another endless round of pouring coffee. At least it was  _actually_  coffee, rather than those weird ice-and-cream-and-syrup concoctions that a more mainstream barista might have to specialise in. Albie Drenton didn’t hold with those “modern la-di-da beverages” and wouldn’t permit them in the establishment. Not that any of the regulars objected, of course, because it meant they could have a common-sense caffeine injection and a sit without squealing teenagers Instagramming something every three seconds…something in short supply in NYC anywhere more mainstream.

I finished the latte I was just pouring and was so focused in getting it onto the tray, as a queue had built up, that the little gasp of astonishment from the elderly customer took a moment to register.

‘A double-dater! Ooh, I haven’t seen one in  _years_ , may I-’

And then of course, without actually  _waiting_  for permission, the old sod grabbed my wrist and shoved my sleeve further up to expose the two birthdates on the inside of my left forearm. Choosing for now to overlook the fact that eyeballing someone else’s soulmark without permission was  _extremely_  rude, I managed to snatch my hand back – but not before the interfering git saw one of the numbers.

'Nineteen  _seventeen_? Good  _lord_ , girl, I’m too young for you!’

Then, seizing his tray and absolutely failing to leave a tip – of course – he ambled off, cackling to himself. Resisting the urge to bang my head on the counter I scrubbed a hand back through my hair with a grimace, rolling my sleeve firmly back down so it covered the dual soulmark, and tried to get on with handling the next order.

Nobody else said anything of course, but they didn’t need to. The murmurs and averted eyes and pitying glances were more than enough. As if being a double-dater wasn’t unusual enough…but then I’d long since come to terms with the idea that, aged twenty-nine, I was never going to meet either of my soulmates, even if I was one of the tiny fraction of the population supposedly  _lucky_ enough to have two.

'Take five, Tessa.’ Albie had of course noticed the entire thing and, with the vaguely paternal air he adopted to most of his staff, gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder. 'I’ll mind the till for a bit.’

'Thanks, Mr Drenton.’

I took the chance to hide in the back room and sit down for a moment, rolling my sleeve back up to once again examine the dual birthdates naturally tattooed into my skin.

_March 10, 1917_  
_July 4, 1918_

My soulmates were hundred year-old men! Or, more likely, corpses. Few people lived that long. Not that it mattered, as I was hardly in a rush to meet them. Not for the first time I found myself picking idly at my arm, trying to convince myself there was some kind of soulmark typo, perhaps a misplaced few freckles that made the dates look different to what they actually were…

It was fruitless, of course. With a sigh I had a quick drink of water and then went back into the café, going to clear some tables. Things were busy today, with some non-regulars. Unusual – normally the tourists went to the Starbucks just around the corner.

'Excuse me, miss?’ A polite but heavily Eastern European accented voice caught my attention, and I turned to see two very attractive redheaded women sitting together over mochas. The younger of the pair had spoken, and wore an expression of slightly apologetic fascination.

'Hi, can I help you?’ I asked, quickly flashing a big Customer Service Smile.

'I’m sorry to ask but – we heard someone in the queue say that one of the baristas here had an unusual soulmark…was that you?’

My smile vanished despite my best efforts.

'Ah. Yes. I’ve got a double.’

'More…unusual than that,’ the other woman said with a small grin, rolling up her own sleeve to reveal another pair of dates, which made me blink in surprise. I’d never seen another double-dater before.

_December 18, 1969_  
_August 29, 2006_

'…one of your soulmates is  _twelve_?’ I exclaimed, without thinking.

'It’s a little more complex than that.’ This was with a little smile. 'May I…?’

For a moment I chewed at my lip, then thought  _the hell with it_. This person clearly had some experience with double soulmarks containing irrational dates. Glancing about warily to be sure nobody else was paying any attention, I bared my forearm.

'Nineteen seventeen and-’ the younger woman actually gasped ’-July fourth, nineteen eighteen? That’s-’

'A hundred years ago, I know.’ I shoved her sleeve back down self-consciously, immediately regretting the whole idea.

'What time does your shift end today?’ That sounded rather urgent, almost to the point of panic.

'Uh. I’m here until close. Why-’

'No reason.’ The older woman just smiled and shook her head. 'Sorry to bother you – what was your name?’

'Tessa.’

'Tessa. I’m Natasha. This is Wanda. It was nice to meet you.’

The pair got to their feet and promptly exited the café while I was still gawking at them. What in the world…?

'Weird hipsters,’ was of course Albie’s verdict, but it was hard not to dwell on the strange encounter. I couldn’t shake the vague feeling of familiarity about the pair, but then I’d always been a bit rubbish at faces. Maybe they  _had_  been in before.

The afternoon rush took my mind firmly off the incident and it was a relief when the quieter period about four o'clock rolled around. I was taking a chance to prop myself on the stool behind the counter for a quick breather, gulping down an espresso to get through the rest of the afternoon, when the sound of someone politely clearing their throat made me glance up.

'Oh! I’m so sorry, I was miles away.’ Then I had to hurriedly cleared my throat to regroup, because the customer was so  _startlingly_  handsome that I could feel my tongue getting stuck to the roof of my mouth. Not that that I hadn’t seen attractive men before, of course, but this broad shouldered, blonde and blue-eyed Adonis was something else.

He seemed vaguely familiar, too. Surely even my crappy memory for faces could recall the cut of that perfectly chiselled jawline…

'So. Um. What can I get you?’ I asked quickly, unsuccessfully trying to sound brisk in an effort to ignore that I’d just gaped semi-openly at a customer for far longer than was appropriate. Although in fairness he seemed to be staring quite intently at me, too, as though he was expecting me to evaporate in front of his eyes.

'Just a coffee, please.’ Then his eyes almost crossed. 'Uh. I mean a – uh –’

'Black?’ This, at least, was firmer ground. He looked like the sort of guy who’d forget the fancy Starbuck-esque names for coffee varieties, and I had a dozen of those a day. They were Mr Drenton’s main customer base, in fact.

'Yeah.’ He gave a light chuckle when I did. 'Thank you.’

'Here you go. Straight black or an Americano, if you’re ever in one of those chain places that doesn’t speak English,’ I added helpfully, with a grin that wasn’t even remotely customer service based.

'Thanks. I’ll try to remember that.’ His shy, grateful little smile made my stomach do a flip-flop. No guy with those looks – not to mention arms that looked like he spent his time tearing old telephone directories in half with his bare hands – ought to be allowed to have a smile that cute.

'No problem.’ I pushed the mug towards him. 'Let me know if you need anything else.’

'Thanks,’ he said again, picking it up and starting to turn away before apparently changing his mind. 'This – uh – this is a little weird, I know, but…by any chance…is your name Tessa?’

My heart leapt into my mouth.

'It – uh – yes?’

'Some friends of mine – Nat and Wanda – were here earlier,’ he added, sounding vaguely apologetic. 'They mentioned that you – well-’ glancing about at the now almost completely empty café, he put the coffee back down and carefully rolled his left sleeve up to expose his forearm.

_March 10, 1917_  
_February 3, 1989_

To say that my jaw hit the floor at the sight of my own birthdate alongside one of those that had taunted me for so long was an understatement. And of course that was also the point at which the familiarity hit me like a thunderclap and I was scrabbling to uncover my own arm.

'July fourth…’

'Nineteen eighteen,’ the man finished.

’ _Oh my god_. You’re-’ staring up at him, utterly stunned, I groped for words ’-you’re  _freaking Captain America_!’

He blushed slightly, which seemed beyond ridiculous, and rolled his sleeve back down.

'I, uh, prefer Steve.’

'Steve,’ I repeated dumbly.  

'I’m sorry, this – uh – this is kind of nuts, I know, but when Nat and Wanda said – oh-’ he abruptly seemed to remember where he was and dug into his pockets.

'On the house,’ Albie said from behind me, nearly making me leap out of my skin in surprise. 'For Captain Rogers, what else?’

'Oh, no, sir, I couldn’t possibly-’ Steve protested, which made me positively  _melt_.

'Take the rest of the day off,’ Albie added to me, ignoring the not-quite-customer’s half-formed objections. 'A soulmate born a hundred years ago? That’s worth two hours. Go on, go!’

Nothing would then do but for him to bundle the pair of us to one of the empty corner booths at the back for a slight semblance of privacy, and take over the entire place himself so we could talk. I took a brief moment to once more thank my lucky stars that I didn’t work for a normal coffee chain, and then resumed gawking inelegantly at Steve, who was now sitting opposite me.

'Are you sure I can’t get you anything?’ he said for the fourth time, just as anxiously as the first.

'No, really, thanks, I’m just-’ I rubbed at her eyes ’-I’m sorry, this is really just so out of the blue. I mean it was a perfectly normal Tuesday afternoon ten minutes ago, and now-’ my brain caught up ’-oh,  _god_ , those women! That was Natasha Romanov and Wanda Maximoff! I  _knew_  I recognised them from somewhere…’

'Yeah, Nat’s still trying to acclimatise Wanda to New York,’ Steve said with a small laugh. 'It’s this big sister thing she has going on, kind of cute actually. Although I’m – uh – I’m pretty glad they got nosy this time. Not many people with dual soulmarks with  _those_  birth dates.’

'Right.’ I stared down at her forearm for a moment, then indicated the March one. 'Do…do you know who this is?’

'Yeah.’ A moment of pain flitted across his face. 'My best friend, Bucky Barnes. When we met as kids we were both  _so_  freaked out, seeing a soulmark with a date so far in the future, and then the war happened and…well. I don’t know where he is right now, but I’m positive he’s still alive. He got…uh…frozen too…’

'Oh.’ I couldn’t really think what to say to that.

'So, uh…tell me about yourself,’ Steve said, clearly enough of a gentleman not to want to dwell on that massive moment of awkwardness. 'Other than your ability to translate fluent Idiot into coherent coffee orders, what’s there to know?’

'Um. Nothing really. I’m not very interesting.’ The implication hit me like a freight train and I suddenly felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. 'God, I’m  _so_  sorry.’

He blinked.

'…for what?’

'God, I’m a – I’m a  _barista_. I mean, you’re a – a  _hero_ , a  _legend_  basically and your friend, this Bucky guy, I guess he’s something amazing too, and your soulmate  _makes coffee_.’ I buried my face in my hands, beyond mortified and still accelerating. 'You must be  _so_  disappointed right now…’

'What?’ Steve sounded genuinely alarmed at that notion. He pulled my hands down and wrapped them in his, looking utterly aghast at the notion. 'Of  _course_  not. God, I – I’d  _never_ -’

'But surely you should have someone more…well…like  _you_?’ I pointed out. 'Another…I don’t know…another freaking  _Avenger_ , or at least another war hero or something-’

'I don’t think the universe is that stupid,’ he said with a small smile, giving my hands a firm but gentle squeeze. 'It knew I need someone who can help…keep me grounded. Someone who is clearly kind-hearted and generous and compassionate but will still kick me in the ass if I piss her off. Someone… _real_.’

That immediate pronouncement made tears prick at my eyes and I bit my lip, not wanting to collapse into waterworks so suddenly. Because of  _course_  the guy who looked like that,  _smiled_  like that and was possessed of quintessential forties gentlemanly manners would  _also_  be a big, soft, sweetheart.  Those baby blue eyes ought to be outlawed, or at least carry a public health warning.

I turned my hands and gave his fingers a little squeeze back.

'You…feel pretty real to me.’ Pretty UNreal, more like. Damn it.  _Down, girl!_

'Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way,’ he said, a little sadly, and then glanced around. 'Say, if your boss is letting you go…can I maybe walk you home?’

'Uh. Sure.’ Sniffing a bit, I ducked out into the back room to regroup and get my stuff before meeting him at the door, giving a sheepish wave to Albie’s enthusiastic shooing gestures.

We set off down the street at a slow, rambling pace, and Steve stuck his hands into his jacket pockets. Despite his sheer – well – his sheer  _everything_ , he seemed nervous. It was impossibly cute.

'Sorry it’s all a little…off the cuff,’ he said after a moment. 'Maybe I should have waited, but when Wanda said they’d seen you and those two dates, I just  _had_  to come down here.’

'I’m glad you didn’t wait,’ I said, and meant it. 'Sorry for freaking out, I just-’ shaking my head, I couldn’t help the incredulous sort of snort that escaped ’-I never expected to meet either of my soulmates, you know? Let alone find out they were  _living legends_.’

He chuckled but went a rather adorable shade of pink, and I melted a little bit more.

'Buck and I just never…well, we used to come up with these crazy theories about it. The soulmate from the future, you know? He kept saying we were destined to invent a time machine, made me read that damned HG Wells book a dozen times.’

'Well, at least I’m not a Morlock, I guess?’

'You’ve read it?’ He visibly brightened at that while I was still cursing letting my inner geek out so soon.

'I read  _far_  too much. Of everything. Especially classic sci fi and fantasy. Wells, Stapledon, Herbert…’

'Herbert?’

'Frank Herbert.  _Dune_. Oh!’ I mentally facepalmed. 'That was from the sixties. I guess you were still…uh…frozen in the arctic, back then?’

'Yeah.’ Then, to my lasting surprise, he extracted a small notebook from his pocket and opened it, writing  _Dune – Frank Herbert_  in it with a careful hand. It was clearly the latest in a prolonged list-keeping exercise; some of the items above included  _Rocky_ ,  _Thai food_ ,  _Star Wars/Trek_  and  _The Beatles_.

'What’s that?’ I couldn’t help but ask as he put it away again.

'It’s my – uh – my catchup list.’ He blushed again, no less fetchingly. 'Stuff people tell me I need to know about, or see, or read, or whatever. Seems to keep getting longer and longer and I’m not making much of a dent in it. Well, apart from the moon landing.’

'That was a pretty big thing, to be fair,’ I allowed.  _Could he GET any more precious?_  'Oh, this is me.’ We’d reached my building door and all I wanted to do was take another turn around the block to prolong his company. 'It’s a bit – well, very – tiny, but did you want a – uh – coffee? Or something?’

'I should probably get back,’ he said, but with fairly evident reluctance. 'Maybe another time. If you – um – if you want there to be another time.’

Yes, apparently he  _could_  get even more precious. Clearly I was going to have to adjust my bar of adorable when it came to Steve Rogers.

'Of course!’ Uncertainty reared its head again. 'That is, I mean, if you do, too…

'Absolutely,’ he said, so quickly that I could have sworn I felt my knees knock.

'Well I’m, um, I’m just on the morning shift tomorrow, be done by one, if you're…free? We could, I don’t know, come back here and hang out, maybe-’ inspiration struck ’-maybe watch  _Star Wars_  and order Thai food, cross some stuff off that list?’

His smile sent a tingle all the way down to my toes, and several other locations on my body.

'That sounds great. I’ll meet you at the café?’

'Sure.’

'Great. Uh.’ He dithered for a moment, charmingly. 'Well, bye for now, then.’

Oh, the hell with this. I stepped up and threw my arms around him. For a moment he sort of froze in surprise but then was hugging me back with a delightful level of enthusiasm.

'Sorry,’ I said into his shirt. 'I’m – uh – I’m a really huggy person.’

That got a proper laugh, which I felt against my cheek as a deep rumble in his chest.

'That’s okay. It's…nice, actually.’

We stood there in the embrace for a little bit until I gingerly pulled back; it was that or I was going to just set up camp on that broad expanse of chest. Then my eyes fell on his lips, and for some reason I’d stretched up on tiptoe to plant a little kiss on them before conscious thought intervened. His cheeks flooded at the same time mine did, but his smile lingered as we parted properly.

'I’ll. Uh. See you tomorrow,’ he said. By the time he’d rounded the corner at the end of the block, nearly tripping over the sidewalk and his own feet in the process, I was basically just a puddle on the steps.

The following morning seemed to crawl, of course, but – ignoring a raucously laughing Albie Drenton as I made my way out – I couldn’t really help that I broke into a completely unselfconscious beaming grin to see Steve waiting for me on a bench just across the street. Part of me wanted to run to him like something out of a teenage movie and have him sweep me up, but I settled for a quick hug and a peck on his cheek by way of greeting instead.

'Sorry it’s so small,’ I said hastily when we were crammed into my tiny studio apartment, which seemed all the more ludicrously undersized with Steve in the middle of it. At least it wasn’t exactly a hardship to squish up with him on the little couch; he threw an arm around my shoulders and within minutes we were cuddled up as though we’d known each other for years.

 _Like soulmates_ , I couldn’t help thinking, and snuggled a bit closer. All the books, the songs, the anecdotes and everything else one heard about meeting a soulmate…nothing came close to the startling reality of it. Boom, instant relationship. Well, of a sort.

'I’m not going anywhere,’ Steve said with a small laugh, giving me a quick squeeze and softly kissing the top of my head, which made  _me_  blush in turn. 'So you can stop clinging on like I’m about to dissolve.’

'I  _told_  you I was huggy!’ I protested, but didn’t lessen my grip. Well pardon me but he was  _nice_  to hold onto.

We binge-watched the entire original  _Star Wars_  trilogy that afternoon, then I ordered Thai food for dinner, played him some Beatles and Abba while we ate, and lent him the well-worn copy of  _Dune_ from my bookshelf. He met me at the end of my shift the following day, too. And the day after that.

Two months later we’re crossed two dozen more things off his list, but added at least fifty more, and I had never expected to feel so happy in my entire life. Steve was wonderful; funny, caring, surprisingly domesticated and just enough of a dork to be charming. I didn’t even mind the envious glares I got from other women when they ambled along the street or sat together in the café, although I suspected those would be somewhat fewer if the begrudging observers realised how intensely – almost painfully – platonic the relationship was.

Not  _all_  soulmate pairings worked like that, of course, but…was it wrong how desperately I hoped?

So when one day he came straight to my apartment nearly a whole hour ahead of schedule – two things without precedent to date – wearing an oddly intense expression, I did my best to stifle the fluttering feeling in my chest and restricted myself to a greeting of mild surprise.

'Sorry I’m so early,’ he said while I made coffee. 'I should probably have brought this up sooner but…we’re kind of leaving Manhattan. The Avengers, I mean. The new compound upstate is ready and it’ll be a lot safer not having our operational base in a crowded area with so many civilians…’

'Well, yeah, I guess that’s sensible.’ Then a horrible thought occurred. 'How  _far_  upstate?’

'A hell of a drive,’ he admitted.

'…oh.’

'That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Before movie night, I mean.’ Turning me around from the counter to face him, he put his hands gently on my shoulders and stroked down to my upper arms. 'I know you have the café and all that, but…would you consider coming with me?’

'To the upstate Avengers secret base?’ I blinked. 'And do what, exactly? You guys got an espresso machine there?’

'I’m told we do, actually, but…anything you want. Operations, logistics management. I’ve seen you running all that stuff for Mr Drenton and it’s not really much different. Tony’s been bitching about finding a half decent ops manager for the compound and-’ he sighed, giving a small shrug ’-I don’t want to leave you here. You’re my soulmate. We waited so long to find each other…even being half a state away feels like far too much.’

'Wow.’ I tried to think but my mind had gone into a jumble. 'Wow. Um. I don’t know. I mean-’

'If you don’t want to then I promise we’ll make it work,’ Steve added firmly, taking my hands in his and giving them a little squeeze. 'But I’d really,  _really_  like you to come. You can meet the others, the rest of the team I mean – especially Sam, he’s been dying to meet the girl who got my movie references up to date – and Wanda and Nat keep asking after you too given, well, everything, and-’

'But I can’t be an  _operations manager_  for the  _Avengers_!’

'Sure you can. It’d be for the compound residence anyway, not the whole team and mission ops. Just like a – uh – sort of a bigger café, that’s always open. Without customers. And with beds.’ He paused and thought about it. 'Okay, so maybe not that like a café after all. It’s fine if you need to think about it, I get that. It’s a big deal. Your whole life is in Manhattan and we’ve only known each other a couple of months.’

For some reason that did it, and I found myself bursting out laughing as the uncertainty vanished like a puff of smoke.  _My whole life_. My whole life of what? Memorising coffee orders in the hope of getting tips from hipsters? Nuts to NYC and the whole latte-swigging lot of them.

'I’ll do it. I’ll come.’ Kneeling up on the bed so I was at least vaguely on eye level with him, I kissed him firmly on the cheek. 'You’re my  _soulmate_ , Steve. Two months or two  _years_  makes no difference. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’ Which was absolutely true even if I immediately rather regretted blurting it out like that. Steve, however, broke into a beaming smile and actually lifted me up into an embrace at that, holding on so tightly that for a moment I was sure my ribs were about to crack.

'Ease up, soldier boy, or you’re going to have one  _less_  soulmate!’

'Oh, god, I’m sorry-’ he all but dropped me, backing off and hastily looking me up and down for injuries ’-I’m so sorry, are you okay?’

'I’m fine, I’m fine!’ It was hard not to laugh at his sudden panic. 'You were just squeezing a  _little_  too hard there, Captain Super-Serum!’

After spending at least the next ten minutes assuring him that yes, I really  _was_  completely fine, we finally settled down to the usual routine of a movie Steve hadn’t yet seen and takeaway from a cuisine he hadn’t yet tried. At least it didn’t take me long to pack my meagre possessions to be shipped upstate, and Albie was astonishingly magnanimous about the entire thing.

'Finding a soulmate should lead to change. You go, girl, and I hope you find your third piece, too!’

His comment provoked a small spasm of guilt. I’d spent so long being so wrapped up in…well, in  _Steve_ , that the second birthdate on both our arms had seemed to fade into a minor consideration. It was so strange, to think of something still being  _missing_ , when just being around Steve made me feel so  _complete_.

The consideration fell clean out of my mind – again – when I laid eyes on the compound, especially the residential block. Even excluding all the stuff which I mentally filed under  _Avengers things_ , like the quinjet hangar and armoury and extensive lab level, the place was  _enormous_. It had its own gym. It had its own  _swimming pool_. Just the kitchen portion of the large common room was bigger than my entire flat had been. The bedroom I was assigned was  _twice_  the size.

It was, however, right next to Steve’s. I tried not to dwell on that.

The rest of the Avengers were astonishingly welcoming, and – with the understandable exception of Vision, the red-skinned artificial intelligence with a magic gem in his head – almost frighteningly normal to just talk to. Natasha was close to my own age and seemed more interested in sharing views on old  _Twilight Zone_  episodes than planning the assassination of evil dictators. Sam Wilson was every inch the typical lunatic jock, as though he’d never quite outgrown high school, as likely to pull a childish prank as to spend an hour lifting weights in the gym. Wanda was much younger than the others and a little shy, but seemed very happy to have another girl to talk to, and even the often insufferable Tony Stark was strangely likeable once you got used to him. Clint Barton, the archer member of the team, flitted in and out as he had family elsewhere, as did Colonel Rhodes, and of course the legendary Thor wasn’t currently on Earth, but thanks to his love of caffeine it was in fact Bruce Banner that I found myself chatting to the most openly in the first weeks, especially when he showed a pleasing lack of turning into a nine foot tall green rage monster in normal conversation.

'Considering how you and Nat met…that must have been so strange, to realise you were soulmates…!’

'We didn’t exactly have a lot of time to dwell on it before everything hit the – uh – fan at the time,’ Bruce agreed with a small shrug. 'I guess that makes us a little more pragmatic than most.’

'Nothing wrong with that.’ Then realisation hit me like a thunderbolt. 'Oh my god…the other date on Nat’s arm – that’s the  _Hulk_ , isn’t it?’

He chortled, a little ruefully.

'Yeah. Not a lot of people get that. Don’t exactly give the – uh – the other guy a birthday party.’

'So do you have that too, or…?’

'Oh, no. Just Nat.’ He showed me the single soulmark on his own forearm with a shrug. 'I try not to dwell on it much. It works, that’s the thing. She’s amazing. We do great. That’s it, you know?’

'Well, that’s what matters.’ Then I realised what he was fiddling with and rolled my eyes. 'Put that down before you break it. How does a man with seven PhDs not know how to properly steam milk?’

Life settled remarkably quickly into a routine. Being the house manager –  _operations_  seemed far too grandiose – for the Avengers was indeed not entirely dissimilar to helping to run a café, and with the help of Tony’s smart AI, FRIDAY, I soon got into the swing of it. The gang were certainly all a lot politer than the average Manhattan hipster craving caffeine. It only took a couple of weeks to teach Vision to use doors rather than just drifting through walls, too, which was something of a relief, although the mildly distressed way he apologised for the intrusion each time, in that oddly British accent, never stopped being amusing.

I even learned to live with the missions, when the team would pile into the quinjet and vanish off to some distant part of the world to stop some warlord or terrorist or other bad guy from doing whatever horrible things he – or she – was doing. Admittedly I spent most of the time they were away desperately trying to keep my mind off whatever danger they were in, but then the roar of the quinjet’s engines would sound and I’d run to the hangar doors and Steve would be there to give me a quick hug and assurances that everything was fine before he hurried away for a shower and debriefing.

It didn’t take me long to realise how deeply I was in love with him, either, but he continued to seem disinterested in much more than holding my hand, or putting his arm companionably around me when we sat together. I told myself it was fine. Not all soulmates had a sexual relationship, or even a romantic one. Still, it was hard not to think about it and  _wish_ …although after doing a little discreet research on double-date soul markers on a whim, I found myself awash in a mire of triad dynamics. Perhaps  _that_  was why Steve didn’t seem interested in me…perhaps he and Bucky?…and so I would be what some extremely stuffy professor from somewhere in Europe referred to as the  _aromantic fulcrum participant_. Yay.

'Steve,’ I finally said one evening as we settled into the ample couch in his room to watch the second  _Indiana Jones_  film. 'I know it might be painful for you – and we don’t have to if you don’t want to – but…would you tell me about Bucky?’

He went very still.

'Tessa, you know I can’t tell you all of it. It would put you in far too much danger.’

'No, no-’ I hurriedly changed tack ’-I don’t mean more about the Hydra stuff, and him being on the run – to be honest I’m not sure I  _do_  want to know anything more about that, even if you’d tell me – I mean about  _him_. Not the Winter Soldier.  _Bucky_.’

That got a small smile. Steve appeared to consider for a moment and then got up, crossing to a drawer and taking something out of it.

'Nat dug this up from somewhere. I decided not to ask.’

'It’s-’ I found myself smiling at the grainy old photograph as he sat down and handed it to me ’-it’s  _you_. It’s both of you!’ Despite the relatively low quality of the rather ancient picture it was easy to identify Steve, and the darker-haired man next to him just  _had_  to be James Barnes. The pair were beaming at the camera, arms slung casually around each other’s shoulders and army dress hats perched somewhat jauntily on their heads.

Bucky was tall – taller than I’d thought he’d be, for some reason, his chin nearly level with that of serum-enhanced Steve – and possessed of an irrefutably rakish manner, with what in the forties would probably have been described as a rogue’s grin. His hair was as dark as Steve’s was blonde, his features a little rounder but no less defined. They made an undeniably handsome pair.

'He looks…’ I groped for something appropriate to say, aware that Steve was regarding me expectantly '…nice. I mean, he also looks like he’s up to something, or shortly  _will_  be up to something, and I assume he left a trail of broken hearts on his tour because that smile is just sin itself…’

Steve broke into an outright guffaw, which pleased me because it was rare to hear him laugh so unrestrainedly.

'Well, you made him pretty fast from an old photo! He’d be pleased with that. Always said he preferred dames with brains as well as looks.’

That made me giggle and I cuddled up to his side, the movie forgotten, cradling the picture in my cupped hands like it was a rare gemstone. Steve looped an arm around and pulled me close, his smile turning somewhat distant.

'The jerk was always trying to stop me doing whatever stupid thing I was doing, y'know? Told me if I ever turned up dead, he’d kill me.’ His voice turned wistful. 'He was like a big brother and a best friend all in one. Plus-’ with a small smirk ’-he was a hell of a cook.’

'I thought men in the forties didn’t know  _how_  to cook!’

'Bucky did. Pretty good, too, long as you weren’t too fussy. And really liked scrambled eggs, since that was pretty much the whole of his repertoire…’

We never did get around to watching  _The Last Crusade_  that evening, but hearing more about Bucky somehow introduced an empty ache to my chest that I hadn’t noticed before. As much as I adored Steve, the precise dynamic of our relationship aside, and however much being around him made me happier than I’d ever been, it now felt like there was undeniably something  _missing_. Or, rather, some _one_.

'We never stopped looking,’ Steve said firmly when I dared to ask. 'Nat’s got a ton of eyes and ears out, and Tony has this algorithm thing running on every network he can get into. Bucky’s just  _really_ good at staying lost. Hydra made him into a ghost, and however much – or little – he remembers about who he  _used_  to be…’

'But with all that  _surely_  there have been…sightings, at least,’ I protested.

'Of course. Bits and pieces, here and there. But gone by the time we can get there, and no tracks to follow.’

'Could I-’ I chewed at her lip, aware of the ludicrousness of the suggestion even as I made it ’-could I help?’

'You’re not going into the field-’

'No, not that, I mean…the sightings. See if there’s there's…a pattern, or something. I know the chances are it won’t do anything-’ I added hastily when he opened his mouth ’-especially if Nat  _and_ Tony have looked at it. But we’re Bucky’s  _soulmates_ , Steve. Maybe if we looked at it together we could…I don’t know…see something, like something they couldn’t. Would it really hurt to try?’

Not seeming to expect much in the way of interest, he agreed to put the suggestion to Bruce and was as shocked as I was when the physicist eagerly started discussing soulmark instinct patterns and statistical biases and subconscious delta wave affinities.

'What he means to say,’ Natasha said, dryly amused as always at her soulmate’s technobabble, 'Is sure, it can’t hurt to give it a try.’

So one afternoon Steve walked me up to the big debriefing room upstairs near the lab and had FRIDAY bring up the tracking data. After the most notable identification near the Triskelion two years ago, Bucky – or someone rather  _like_  Bucky – seemed to have fled the US for the less civilised parts of the world. Which made sense for staying hidden, since the slums of second and third world backwaters weren’t known for their immaculate CCTV coverage. He’d been supposedly spotted in Egypt, Morocco, Iran and Bangladesh, but most of the more concrete confirmed sightings were around Eastern Europe.

'Still a pretty big area,’ Steve said with a sigh as FRIDAY obligingly zoomed the map in to the relevant geography. 'Not to mention the population, and lack of technological infrastructure hampering anything Tony can do. Well, anything he can do  _legally_ ,’ he added with a small grimace that made me grin. Tony Stark’s habit of hijacking military surveillance satellites for Avengers purposes had earned him more than one chewing out – from Steve, who objected to it in principle, and more vehemently from an ever weary and exasperated Pepper Potts.

'Why are all the dots different colours?’

’ _Levels of confirmation_ ,’ FRIDAY supplied helpfully. ’ _Red is as close to confirmed one hundred percent as we can get, blue is more or less unsubstantiated._ ’

'Lot of red around the Ukraine and Russia.’

'Close to home territory for the Winter Soldier,’ Steve agreed ruefully.

'He’s moving around a lot but staying  _well_  clear of Moscow, and he doesn’t seem to go south of Moldova…’

'There’s that one in Bursa.’

'That’s blue, though. FRIDAY, what’s in – uh – Volgograd?’

’ _That used to be Stalingrad_ ,’ the AI said. ’ _Location of the largest and bloodiest battle of World War Two, amongst other things. There’s an international airport not far out of the main city._ ’

'He doesn’t travel by air,’ Steve said immediately, shaking his head. 'Too easy to get identified.’

'Makes sense.’ I stood and scrolled the screen across to the east, stopping when Steve sprang up and caught my wrist. 'What is it?’

'Karpovka. I know that place.’

’ _Small industrial town in the Volgograd Oblast_ ,’ FRIDAY said. ’ _Population around five thousand. More notably it was the location of an undercover HYDRA facility identified and dismantled in nineteen forty-one_ -’

'By the Howling Commandos,’ Steve finished. 'My god, that’s one of the last missions we did before we went to the Alps…I remember it now. Two hundred POWs in holding pens, like animals, for some twisted HYDRA experimentation ring, all right underneath the damned church.’

'Maybe he…remembers it somehow?’ I suggested.

'Maybe. FRIDAY, is there a correlation between confirmed sightings and distances from Karpovka?’

’ _Never more than six days away by road for the last six months, Captain_.  _Might be on to something here_.’

'He’s practically  _orbiting_  it!’ Steve pulled me into a one-armed hug, a half-grin of excitement on his face. 'My god, how did any of us  _not_  see it? That narrows the search area down  _massively_ …’

'Well, it isn’t exactly a last known address-’

'It still helps.’ Kissing me on the forehead, he started to turn. 'I’ll update Nat, maybe she can-’

'Steve.’ I frowned and jabbed a finger at the screen as one name caught my eye. 'Did the Howling Commandos ever go to Kotelnikovo?’

'Not that I recall.’

’ _Confirmed, but Agent Romanov’s files indicate strong potential of an old HYDRA safe house in the area near the river_ ,’ FRIDAY said.

'Why?’ Steve touched my arm lightly. 'You see something?’

'I don’t know.’ I scratched the side of my nose, feeling like an idiot fairground fortune teller but unable to deny the intensity of the feeling. 'It just…jumped out at me.’ Then I shook her head. 'It’s probably nothing.’

'FRIDAY, show us the sat view of the river in Kotelnikovo, please?’

’ _Sure. Nothing much to see, though_.’

His hand came up to linger over the display at a junction where three tiny, unnamed streets met. I went to his side and followed his gaze.

'You think maybe…?’

'I don’t know. I’m not big on wild leaps of intuition but you’re right, it just seems to…stand out, somehow.’

'He’s our soulmate,’ I said softly. 'Maybe leaps of intuition don’t need to be wild.’

Natasha was surprisingly amicable to the idea, even before Bruce went off on another ramble about subconscious biases and soulmark driven intuitive subtext, but Tony seemed more sceptical.

'You’re the boss, Cap. You want to take the jet and go wander around the back end of Russia, that’s your call, but I wouldn’t get anyone’s hopes up on the basis of random happenstance and map-poking.’

'It’s a two or three day trip, tops,’ Sam countered with a shrug. 'I say worth a shot. Not like we’re swimming in leads on the dude’s whereabouts anyway.’

'Well then, you kids have fun, and don’t start any fights!’

Wanda and Vision went too, but Bruce elected to remain behind on the basis that even if something bad _did_  happen, going Code Green at Bucky Barnes wasn’t really the goal of the trip. Tony stayed too, partially because he seemed to think it was a waste of time and partially because Pepper would have been immensely peeved at him jetting off to the former Soviet Union on a whim.

'If he is there-’ I gripped Steve’s gloved hands tightly at the foot of the quinjet’s ramp ’-you’re going to bring him home, right?’

'That’s the plan.’ He pulled me into a hug and I managed a smile against his armour before giving him a quick peck on the cheek as I stepped back.

'Be safe.’

'We’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry,’ Nat said with a wink.

There was no news for fifty two hours – not that I was anxiously keeping track via FRIDAY – but at three in the afternoon two days later I was called into the comms room by Tony and positively  _flew_ up the stairs at a run.

'They got him,’ he said without preamble. 'En route back now. Score one for random intuition! Don’t glare at me like that, I’m smart enough to admit when I’m wrong. Mostly.’

I hugged him, on general principles, which elicited a loud noise of surprise, and spent the next few hours hanging around the common area trying not to be jittery.  _Both_  my soulmates were on the way and would arrive at any minute. The notion was so other-worldly, even after the enormous changes of the last few months, that it almost gave me a headache if I thought about it too hard.

Even when the unmistakeable roar of the quinjet landing sounded, though, it was well over two hours before Steve came to find me. He looked haggard; tired in a way that suggested more than mere physical exertion taking its toll, and was still in his uniform.

'Hey.’

'Hey!’ I went to him and tried not to dwell on the tighter-than usual hug he gave me. 'Tony said…you found him?’

'Yeah, we did,’ he said without letting go. 'But – Tessa – it’s not good. He’s still loaded down with HYDRA programming, triggers and-’

'Can I see him?’ I asked, tilting my chin back to look up at him.

'I'm…not sure that’s a good idea.’

'Steve!’ Stepping back, I set my jaw. 'I want to see him. He’s  _my_  soulmate too.’

For a moment he looked like he was considering debating the matter further, but finally gave a small nod. I scurried after him into the deeper parts of the complex, past a couple of very heavy-looking security doors into an observation area with a wall of glass and another thick door leading into a small room. A lone figure sat in a chair in the centre, if  _chair_  was the right word for the masses of locks and braces and other restraints bolting him in. For some reason the sight made me angry. Why did they have him tied down like a wild animal?

’-vitals are fine but given he could, I don’t know,  _go off_  at any  _minute_ -’ Tony was saying to Nat, while Sam lurked by the glass and Bruce fiddled with a nearby screen.

'He’s not a grenade, Tony,’ she replied mildly. 'Besides, that rig in there’ll hold him. It was built to, remember?’

'That is  _so_  not my point – what the hell is she doing here?’ This was as he seemed to notice me lurking just behind Steve. 'For god’s sake, Cap, are you  _nuts_?’

'She wanted to see him,’ Steve said firmly.

'And what if one of the many,  _many_  little subroutines HYDRA drilled into his skull happens to be around a soulmate trigger, huh? Did you even  _think_ -’

I stopped listening at that point, moving to the glass and laying my fingertips lightly on it.

'One way,’ Sam said to me quietly. 'He can’t see us.’

I nodded, not really caring about the specifics. The figure on the other side of the glass looked almost asleep, head hung and face obscured by his long, dark hair. He was in normal clothes, tattered and well-worn, with a pair of black military-style boots that had probably seen better decades, but my gaze was drawn irrevocably to the dull gleam of his metallic left arm, exposed to the elbow even in the restraints as his sleeves were partially rolled up. In fact, if his wrists had been bolted down at a slightly different angle then his soulmark would have been visible, although most likely only barely given that the visible skin of his right arm was stippled with cuts, scrapes and bruises.

’-as much right to be here as anyone else does-’ Steve was apparently still arguing my presence with Tony, but I had bigger concerns right now.

'Excuse me,’ I said, loudly enough to cut off any further bickering. 'Why is nobody helping him? He’s hurt.’

'He didn’t exactly come quietly,’ Sam pointed out.

'That doesn’t matter.’ Casting about, I grabbed the first-aid box off the wall and made for the door, but Steve got in the way.

'Tessa, Bucky’s head is  _full_  of HYDRA programming. And we have no way to know what might…trigger him.’

'Yeah, for all we know the colour yellow might turn him from nice, docile and resigned sulky boy into all-around murderous killing machine,’ Tony added, motioning to indicate the shirt I was wearing. 'So everyone stays hands off until we can do some remote scans, see what might be rattling around in there.’

I glanced at him and then looked back at Steve.

'He’s  _hurting_ ,’ I said softly, knowing it as surely as I knew what colour the sky was.

'I know.’ Steve’s jaw was locked, a ripple of tension along his cheek. 'But the risk – to you –’

'He’s practically  _nailed to the floor_ , Steve! I just want to talk to him. I want to-’ I motioned helplessly with the kit ’-I want to do  _something_.’

'He’s perfectly secure,’ Natasha said, pointedly enough that Tony just flapped his hands and stomped over to look at the screens with Bruce. 'If you want to go in…just go slow.’

'Not by yourself, either,’ Steve added, and flicked the lock. It was a trifle cooler inside the cell, but I barely noticed the minor change in temperature since Bucky’s head had snapped up the second the door opened. Aside from the layer of dark stubble across his cheeks and chin, and of course the longer hair, he looked much as he had in the old photograph. His eyes were a steel-grey, more intense than Steve’s baby blues, and his brows drew together in a furrow that looked half furious, half anguished.

Now I’d never exactly believed in love at first sight, soulmates or not, but something in that stormy regard seemed to reach straight through my chest into my heart and just  _squeeze_. It took everything in me not to run to him to offer some semblance of comfort.

'Bucky?’ Steve tried tentatively, closing the door after us and moving slowly into the room. 'This is Tessa.’

'What’s she  _doing_  here?’ That came out on almost a growl. 'I’m not safe.’

'I wanted to see you,’ I said, moving out from where Steve had protectively stepped in front of me.

'I’m not safe!’ Bucky repeated, more urgently, glaring at Steve.

'Careful,’ Steve murmured when I moved towards the chair, and tried to block me again. I clucked my tongue and just moved around him, walking straight up to crouch in front of Bucky. He visibly flinched and turned his head away as though afraid to look at me, which was more than a little upsetting.

 _'Steve, get her the hell out of there_ ,’ Tony barked over the intercom system.

'Shut up, Tony,’ I snapped.

'I’m _not safe_ ,’ Bucky insisted, although it now came out as a pleading whisper.

'I’m not afraid of you,’ I said firmly, and opened the medical kit. Admittedly I only had basic first aid training but it didn’t take a genius to dab antiseptic onto gauze for the more obvious cuts and scrapes. Bucky kept his gaze averted, even when I dared to take a firm hold of his chin and turn his head to clean out a nasty graze on his left cheek. His jaw was set – that same taut ripple that Steve exhibited – and despite the mechanisms locking him in place I could see the tension in his shoulders.

'James?’ I tried tentatively, brushing some of his hair out of his face so I could see to his forehead.

'I wouldn’t,’ Steve murmured. 'Only person he ever let call him that without bitching about it was his mother.’

'Hmm.’ Grateful for the attempt at levity, I shot him a quick smile and then turned back. 'Bucky it is, then. Don’t want to get chewed out by the infamous Sergeant Barnes.’ Tucking another set of dark locks behind his ear, I finished cleaning the thin cut over his right eyebrow and then looked carefully at his hands, curled so tightly around the edge of the restraints that his fingers were almost white. The knuckles – on his flesh hand, of course – were split and bloodied, so I dug out some more gauze to see to them.

'You’re doing good, Buck,’ Steve said gently. 'Everything’s okay.’

Bucky flexed his fingers warily as I finished cleaning them and turned my attention to further up his arm. My fingers grazed lightly over the just-visible soul mark, the year of my birth, but a metal bar blocked the way to a rather vicious scrape that ran from the outside of his wrist to his elbow.

'I can’t get to it,’ I said, glancing at Steve in appeal.

'It’s fine,’ Bucky said in a low voice.

'It could get infected.’

'It’s not-’

Ignoring him, I glanced back at the one-way glass, from inside the cell just a panel of matte black.

'Can someone release the restraints, please?’

'I don’t think that’s-’ Steve began, but was drowned out by Bucky’s shout.

’ _No_! Absolutely not!  _Nobody_  do that!’ His eyes finally settled on me, simmering with angry frustration. 'You need to leave.  _Now_.’

'I’m not going anywhere.’ I could be stubborn, too. 'Someone unlock the chair, please!’

’ _Not going to happen, Diane_ ,’ Tony said dryly, as usual making me want to slap him for the nickname.

'Stop being an ass and  _unlock the chair_ , Tony,’ I snapped back, glaring at the panel.

'Steve, get her  _out of here_ ,’ Bucky ground out.

'Unlock the damned chair!’

'Tessa-’ Steve began, but whatever cautionary or placating thing he’d been about to say was cut off when the restraints suddenly  _did_ slide back. There was the dim sound over the speakers of Tony, Bruce and Sam exclaiming in alarm at Natasha, but no time to dwell on the matter as Bucky rocketed out of the chair, seizing me by the neck with his metal hand and slamming me back against the glass panel so hard that cracks appeared in it.

Dimly, through the pounding of blood in my ears, I heard people shouting and running feet. Steve was trying to drag Bucky back, panicked and probably more frightened than he’d dare to admit at the sight of one of his soulmates trying to throttle the other. I managed to lift my hands to close around the cool metal of Bucky’s wrist, feeling the plates shift as he adjusted his grip. He had me literally pinned to the wall by my throat now, my feet dangling off the ground, and his expression had gone chillingly blank.

So why didn’t I feel even the slightest bit afraid?

'Steve-’ I managed to choke out ’-it’s okay. Back – back off.’

’ _What_? No! Buck, let  _go_  of her-’

I locked gazes with Bucky, clutching at his wrist as much as I could. For the briefest moment the animation came back into that steel-grey regard, a glimpse of the  _real_  Bucky, tortured and terrified at the sight of his soulmate trapped and being choked  _by him_ …

Except…no. Not choking. He was holding me there, and it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but if he’d wanted to he could clearly have crushed my windpipe by now. His heartbeat, firing a mile a minute when he’d surged out of the chair, was calming. Slowly, steadily, the light was coming back into his eyes, along with something like recognition, and his lips parted slightly in a silent gasp.

He let go of me so abruptly that I fell, stumbled and then dropped to my knees, half collapsing against the wall to get my breath back. Instantly he hunkered down, anguished worry all over his face, and peered at me anxiously for signs of injury.

'Oh my god. Oh my  _god_ , are you-’

Then he was shoved aside rather unceremoniously by Steve.

'Tessa!’

'I’m fine,’ I  managed, still gasping, trying to even out my breathing. 'I’m fine, it’s okay – we’re – we’re okay.’

'I hurt you,’ Bucky began, almost on a sob, starting to back away from me while violently shaking his head. 'I – I could have  _killed_  you-’

'Buck – calm down, just try and focus,’ Steve entreated, glancing between us in alarm, torn between two soulmates in obvious distress.

So I did the only thing that seemed to make sense, impulsive and probably stupid as it no doubt was; I lunged forward and threw my arms around Bucky, pulling him – still protesting – into the tightest embrace I could muster. For a moment I was sure he was going to yank himself away, shove me back, but then something seemed to click and he was hugging me back, so hard that I could feel my ribs cracking in protest.

'Sssh.’ Ignoring that minor complaint, I lifted one hand to stroke through his hair when he dropped his face to my shoulder, burrowing against me like a child. 'It’s okay. It’ll be okay.’

Another set of arms went around me, gently prying Bucky’s grip a little looser – mercifully – and then Steve was hugging us both, murmuring reassurances of his own.

'We got you, Buck. You’re all right. We got you.’

It took long minutes before Bucky stopped shaking, but by degrees we all got out of the holding area and into the medical wing, where the rather baffled duty doctor confirmed that my throat was hardly bruised at all.

'He wouldn’t hurt me,’ I said firmly to a glowering Sam.

'You…weren’t scared,’ Steve said, taking my hand. 'I could see it in your face. How…how could you be so sure?’

'I just was.’ I constructed a shrug. 'Like you were when you saw that road in Kotelnikovo.’

'On behalf of scientific principle, you’re all nuts,’ Tony said, in the matter of one delivering a vital cosmic truth. 'And I need a drink. My  _god_ , Nat, the next time you start hitting buttons-’

'He wouldn’t hurt her,’ Natasha said.

'And  _you_  knew this  _how_?’

'Same way I know the Hulk would never hurt me.’ She shrugged. 'Shall we give these guys some space?’

Once the others were gone and the medics also diplomatically excused themselves, I risked glancing at Bucky where he was perched on the opposite bed. To my surprise he was staring fixedly in my direction, the polar opposite of how he’d been in the cell, as though if he stopped looking at me I might suddenly vanish in a puff of smoke. At least the medics had cleaned him up properly now, although thanks to the serum in his blood most of the cuts and bruises were already fading.

'You sure you’re okay?’ Steve asked gently, touching my shoulder. I studied him for a moment, catching the edge of worry that still lingered in his sky-blue eyes.

'I’m fine. Really.’ I gave him a quick hug and kissed his cheek. 'Go lose the suit and have a shower. You stink of quinjet exhaust.’

He managed a very light chuckle at that, but did shoot a wary look at Bucky.

'We’ll be fine,’ I insisted, giving him a light push towards the door. 'We’ll be right here.’

With obvious reluctance, and more than a few backward glances, he went to the door.

'FRIDAY’s monitoring. If you need-’

’ _Go shower, Steve_!’

Once he’d finally left, I hopped off the bed and poured a cup of water from the jug nearby, crossing to hold it out to Bucky with a rather feeble attempt at cheeriness. Steve’s self-conscious introduction in the coffee shop was one thing, but this was definitely  _not_  how I’d envisioned my first conversation with one of my soulmates going.

'What a worry-wort, huh?’ I tried.

Bucky started to reach out with his right arm, then seemed to think better of it and switched, taking a slow sip without taking his gaze away from my face. For some reason the immediate aversion bothered me, and I again acted on blind instinct by reaching to cover his metal hand with mine. It was cool to the touch, though not unpleasant, but I felt several of the plates whir and click as he tensed at the contact. Interesting.

'Can you…’ I ran my fingers over it '… _feel_  with this one?’

'Yes.’ He downed the water and put the cup aside, still not taking his eyes off me.

'Does it hurt?’

'No.’ Swallowing, hard, he was clearly having to consciously not resist when I picked the hand up in both of mine and turned it over. 'Pain is…muffled. But pressure feels the same. More or less.’

'Can you feel this?’ I asked, tracing my thumbs lightly over the knuckles.

'…yeah.’ His tone had dropped and I looked up anxiously. The fresh intensity of his regard made my stomach do an unexpected flip-flop, so I tried to mask it by lifting both his hands up, palm to palm with mine, and then lacing my fingers through his larger ones. The contrast between the warmth of his skin and the cool chill of the metal was strange, but far from off-putting.

Now he was staring at me like I was some sort of Second Coming, but then abruptly hung his head and seemed to half curl in on himself.

'I’m a monster. You shouldn’t have to-’

'You are  _not_  a monster, Bucky!’ I injected every ounce of fierce certainty I possessed into that statement. 'You're…my missing piece. See?’ Letting go of him, I rolled my sleeve up and laid my forearm alongside his where the soul mark was now clearly visible.

_July 4, 1918_  
_February 3, 1989_

'I never thought I’d meet either of you,’ I added softly, and then risked a little smile. 'Did you really make poor Steve read  _The Time Machine_  so many times when you were kids?’

'Thirteen,’ a voice from the door supplied, with marked affection. 'It was  _thirteen_  times. Still got the damned thing practically memorised.’

'Would’ve been fourteen if you hadn’t conveniently  _lost_  it at the bus stop,’ Bucky said immediately, as if on a reflex, and the tiniest hint of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth before he shook his head vehemently. 'I shouldn’t be in here. I should be-’

'You’re fine, Buck.’ Steve came into the room properly and strode up to touch his cheek quickly to mine in the not-quite-kiss we often used, then clapped Bucky on the shoulder. 'Even HYDRA’s programming can’t override a soul bond, apparently. Doctor Banner’s tearing his hair out and threatening to write a paper on it.’

That made me giggle – typical Bruce – but Bucky was clearly still both sceptical and rather despondent.

'If I’d-’

'But you  _didn’t_ ,’ Steve pointed out. 'You dragged me out of that river, and you didn’t hurt Tessa-’

'I nearly killed you a dozen times and I  _grabbed_  her by the  _throat_ -’

'You didn’t know what you were doing-’

'No, I  _didn’t_ , and that’s why-’

'Wait, wait – what river?’ I touched Steve’s wrist in alarm, because nothing about a river, let alone him being  _dragged out of one_ , had come up in our previous discussions. 'What happened?’

Bucky hopped off the table and all but rounded on him.

'You didn’t  _tell_  her?’

'She didn’t need to know-’

’ _Hey_!’ Frustrated now at the pair of them, I thumped Steve on the arm and then put a hand on Bucky’s chest to stop him taking another step forward. 'Calm  _down_ , both of you, or I’ll call Tony in here and I guarantee he’ll take  _great_  pleasure in tazing  _both_  of you into the ground.’ Waiting until they’d both subsided a little, I looked over at Steve again. 'I think I need to know  _now_ , Steve.’

Slowly, hesitantly, he explained what had happened on the helicarrier near the Triskelion. Bucky paced a little and then sat down hard on a stool, leaning his elbows on one of the beds and burying his face in his hands.

'…but he dragged me  _out_. He could have left me to die in that river but he  _didn’t_. Even then, with HYDRA’s programming fully active and supposedly in control-’ Steve glanced at Bucky pointedly ’-even  _then_ , Buck, deep down you  _knew_  who I was. Didn’t you?’

'I don’t know.’ Bucky shook his head violently without looking up. 'I don’t  _know_  what I thought, what I did…I don’t know what I  _knew_ , who I  _was_ , who I  _am_ -’

Yet again on reflex I went to his side and put my arms around him, leaning down to rest my chin on the top of his head. For a moment his entire body went rigid and I was sure he’d push me away, but then he seemed to surrender to baser instinct and relaxed against me with a small shudder.  _Oh, Bucky_. He  _was_  hurting, but not in any way a mere medic could make better.

'We’ll fix it,’ I murmured. 'We’ll fix you.’ Lifting one hand, I stroked his hair gently and planted a soft kiss on his crown. 'It’ll be okay. I promise.’

'It won’t,’ he said brokenly. 'It can’t be. I can’t trust my own  _mind_.’

'Buck-’ Steve came to his other side and hunkered down next to him ’-we’ll figure it out. We will.’

’ _Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but Agent Romanov would like a word_ ,’ FRIDAY interjected apologetically over the PA.

'Go on,’ I said with a quick nod. 'I’ll be fine.’

'No –  _no_.’ Bucky abruptly straightened, pushing me off. 'Steve, put me back in the cell.’

'Absolutely not!’ I exclaimed, horrified at the notion.

’ _Steve_.’

He hesitated a moment and then slowly nodded.

'Not the chair, but…’

'Fine.’

I protested all the way there but, perversely, Bucky seemed a little calmer once he was sequestered in the sealed room again.

'FRIDAY, can you open the window?’ Steve asked.

The tint on the pane shifted very slightly and I realised that it had some kind of smart tech in it which could shift it between one and two way.

'Keep an eye on him,’ Steve said, pecking me on the forehead. 'I won’t be long.’

He hurried out and I went to sit by the window. Bucky paced back and forth for a bit before sliding down to sit on the floor with a low huff, his back against the glass. After a little bit I lifted my hand to splay my fingers out on the surface and was mildly gratified when he shifted to face me. A long few seconds ticked by and then, very slowly, he lifted his own flesh palm to match his fingers against mine, before letting it slide down and drop to the floor as his shoulders slumped.

'Hey,’ I began. 'Oh – FRIDAY, is the intercom on?’

’ _It is now_.’

'Right. Hey, Bucky.’

He stared at me with such resigned misery that my heart  _ached_  for him.

'We’ll figure out how to fix you,’ I insisted. 'HYDRA’s goons’ve got nothing on Tony and Bruce.’

There was a silence.

'You deserve better than this,’ he said finally, dropping his eyes. 'It’d be better if you and Steve-’

'So help me, Barnes, if you finish that sentence I will come in there and kick your antiquated ass,’ I snapped, overlooking the patent absurdity of such a threat. 'I got  _two_  dates on my arm, and one of them’s yours, and you’re not getting out of that.’

'He may not have to.’

I glanced around, brightening at the sight of Steve.

'We got a plan?’

'Yeah. We do.’

The idea was actually Wanda’s, in all fairness, but Bruce and Tony had devised the EEG scanning technique that went with it. In a nutshell, the concept was for her to have a rummage around in Bucky’s mind to try and isolate whatever weird programming HYDRA had buried in there, and then to extract it using her powers. Considering she’d been able to slice and dice every other psyche she’d come across when she had the inkling, it seemed solid enough to me on paper.

'It won’t be pretty,’ Bruce warned me as they strapped Bucky back into the chair. 'You might want to step out.’

'I’m not going anywhere,’ I said, aware how mulish I sounded and not caring.

'Suit yourself.’ Tony stepped back into the observation rooms and flipped some switches. 'Okay, Wanda, you’re up.’

'You sure you want to stay?’ Steve asked me in a low voice. I nodded and stepped up to his side.

'This will probably be…uncomfortable,’ Wanda said to Bucky.

'Just do it,’ he ground out.

It was hard not to be oddly fascinated by the scarlet tendrils of energy that gave Wanda her alias, but when those same wisps began to drift out to probe Bucky’s temples I felt hastily for Steve’s hand and was grateful when he linked his fingers through mine.

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. Bucky’s brow furrowed and he began to shake.

'We’re getting some weird patterns in here,’ Bruce warned from the room. 'I – uh – I don’t think whatever’s in there likes being prodded.’

'Almost,’ Wanda whispered, flexing her fingers.

Bucky screamed, and it was like a red hot knife to the chest. I had to look away, burrowing against Steve’s side. He put both arms around me, only the carefully-controlled tightness of his grip belying how much the sound was affecting him, too.

Wanda suddenly dropped her hands.

'I – I can’t. Not without killing him.’

When Bucky went limp so only the straps were keeping him vaguely upright, I panicked and bolted for him while shrieking for someone to open the restraints. There was a bit of arguing behind me before Steve cut across the lot of it in a bark of command; his Captain voice.

'Open it  _now_.’

Of course as the bars slid back Bucky sort of pitched forward and I had to throw my entire mass against him to stop him from collapsing, but then Steve was there to take most of the weight so together we eased him onto the floor.

'Bucky?’ I brushed his hair back anxiously, relieved when he gave a low groan. 'Oh, thank god.’

I sat there cradling him, barely-conscious as he now was, while Steve lurked protectively over both of us and poor Wanda tried to explain what she’d been able to dig out. I dimly overheard something about someone called Karpov and a trip or a mission or a book or something, but it boiled down to the team deciding they needed to track down someone who turned out to be in Ohio, of all places, to get something that might help.

Despite my best and loudest efforts I was ejected from the cell along with everyone else, but like hell was I going to return to the residential level overnight given the circumstances so I ended up huddled up by the glass again. Steve came to join me, bringing a pile of blankets, and we ended up in a sort of dozy heap there together for most of the night, neither wanting to leave Bucky alone.

Of course when morning came he had to go, away with the team to Ohio and whatever Wanda was convinced they’d find there. I elected to stay by the cell, rather than see him off at the foot of the quinjet’s ramp as I normally did, but once he was back in uniform he swung by on the way and I hugged him hard enough that the armour plates creaked.

'Hopefully won’t take long.’ He glanced at Bucky, who’d stopped pacing at some point during the night and was now sitting against the far wall of the cell, staring blankly at the glass panel. 'Keep an eye on him.’

'I’ll keep both.’ I stretched up and kissed him firmly on the cheek. 'Be safe.’

'Be back soon,’ he replied, as he always did, giving me a last squeeze before heading out.

For the rest of the day I lurked around the holding cells, not that Bucky did anything other than sit and stare or occasionally get up to pace robotically back and forth. Maria Hill came in a few times, I think to check he hadn’t smashed his way out and disembowelled me. I thought it was her when the door opened quite late that evening, and turned to make some slightly acidic comment which died on my lips at the sight of Steve.

'We got it,’ he said, and hugged me.

 _It_  turned out to be a slim, black leather book with a single red five pointed star in the middle of the front cover. The pages were full of typed and handwritten Russian notes; Nat identified them as the equivalent of an operational manual for the Winter Soldier Program. This meant, in theory at least, that we could check the triggers list, and thus Team Brainbox – aka Tony and Bruce – could work out how to turn them off.

'We’re going to need to do some baseline scans,’ Bruce explained with a vaguely apologetic air.

'You mean,’ Steve said, 'You’re going to…activate him.’

'It’s the only way to be sure.’ Tony constructed a shrug. 'Your call, Cap.’

Again I point blank refused to leave the room as Bucky was strapped down into the chair again. Natasha picked up the book and flicked through it before running her finger down a particular page. Her gaze went to Steve.

'You sure about this?’

He swallowed.

'Buck?’

'Only way.’ Bucky hung his head. 'I want  _her_  out.’

'Not going to happen,’ I shot back before anyone could say anything else. 'Go on, Nat.’ After all, Wanda could hold down Tony in full armour with her mind, and Vision was doubtless lurking somewhere nearby too and he was even stronger than that. If Bucky  _did_  go into full HYDRA assassin mode and somehow busted out of the restraints, he wouldn’t get very far.

Natasha started reciting from the book. It clearly meant  _something_  because on the third word Bucky’s fists clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut as though  _waiting_  for something horrible to happen.

On the sixth word his eyes opened again but his brows remained furrowed.

After the tenth word there was a slightly awkward silence, and then he raised his head in obvious bewilderment.

'That’s it,’ Nat said with a frown. 'According to everything this says, the  _soldat_ should now be active.’

'Does he do requests?’ Tony quipped.

'We’re getting nothing in here,’ Bruce added.

Nat folded her arms and addressed Bucky directly.

'Stand up. Break those bars.’

He squinted at her, seeming to consider the order. Then, in a manner of vague surprise, he said

'No.’

'Did you read it right?’ Wanda asked hesitantly.

'Of course I  _read it right_ ,’ Nat shot back witheringly, already looking through the book again. 'It’s just a sequence of trigger words, nothing complicated-’

While a minor squabble around logistics and brainwashing mechanisms erupted in the background, I glanced at Steve just as he looked at me.

'It won’t work,’ he murmured quietly. 'It’s broken.’

'I thought he nearly killed you at the Triskelion?’ I said.

'That was just me.’ He smiled, and there was an almost secretive little warmth to it. 'Still had a missing piece.’

'So you really think…?’

'Bruce, pop the bolts,’ he called, which put an immediate stop to the surrounding debate.

'Are you  _nuts_?’ Tony exclaimed.

'Go on.’ Wanda flexed her fingers. 'I’m ready. In case.’

There was a short silence punctuated only by the sound of retracting metal. Carefully, as if afraid he might detonate if he moved too fast, Bucky stood up. For a moment he stared at his own hands as if astonished to find them still under his conscious control.

'How’re you feeling, Buck?’ Steve asked.

'I-’ he looked up and his gaze flickered between Steve and I ’-fine. I…yeah. I feel…fine.’

’ _Son of a_  – did you see that?’ Tony and Bruce were suddenly very busy in the background but I couldn’t have cared less right then. Bucky was slowly looking around the room like he was seeing it for the first time. Then he moved, so suddenly that I jumped, and yanked Steve into an enormous bear hug.

The tension in the room evaporated all at once as the pair of them wobbled a bit, pounding each other on the back with a series of inarticulate but undeniably happy noises before parting. Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulders and then looked over at me. Before I could properly sort myself out he’d closed the distance in two short strides and pulled me into an embrace, tucking my head under his chin.

'Tessa,’ he mumbled into my hair. 'It’s you. Finally.  _Both_  of you.’

'Both of us, Buck,’ Steve said with a grin, stepping up to half hug me from behind while keeping one hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 'We’re both right here.’


	2. Bucky

Bruce had to explain the whole thing to me twice, using much shorter words than he probably would have liked, but the gist of it seemed to be that the unusual nature of the dual soul bond was something even HYDRA’s programming couldn’t override. Challenging a soul bond with any kind of mental conditioning was usually an uphill struggle, as had already been proven by the Winter Soldier’s reluctance, bordering on inability, to kill Steve in their earlier encounter two years ago, but apparently my presence and the confirmation of the triad had just scrambled any remaining encoding to the point of uselessness.

He went on a bit about pheromone exchanges and some other stuff, but the bottom line was that while it may have been the Winter Soldier who grabbed me by the throat when he’d first rocketed out of the restraining chair, Bucky Barnes was firmly back in the driving seat the moment Steve and I had collapsed in a heap with him on the floor that very first day.

Tony grudgingly acquiesced, three days of testing and evaluation later, to letting the newcomer out of the holding area into the residential level, although understandably there was still a fair bit of psych workup to do for him so the strictly Avengers territory in the compound remained off limits for the time being. Bucky took the room on the other side of Steve’s but remained in there much of the time, only occasionally letting himself be coaxed out for a group breakfast or just to sit in the communal lounge. He remained heavily withdrawn, seeming to be stuck in a kind of shell-shock and prone to hastily backing away to flee if in even the remotest doubt about any given situation. In fact I barely saw him, and whenever I did he kept a cautious distance, even if more than once I caught his eyes following me around the room.

‘The world’s changed a lot since nineteen forty-five,’ Steve said when he caught me fretting that I’d somehow done something wrong. 'And that’s  _without_  being HYDRA’s puppet in the meantime.’

'I know.’ I wrung my hands uselessly. 'I just wish I could  _do_  something for him.’

'You and me both.’ He linked our fingers together and then pulled me into his chest. 'This isn’t the kind of thing you can just hug out, Tessa.’

'Yeah, but a little hugging probably wouldn’t  _hurt_ , would it?’

'We still talking about Buck, or was that a hint?’

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, especially when he picked me up so my feet dangled against his shins and carried me bodily into the lounge like a rag doll.

'Put her down, Steve, you don’t know where she’s been,’ Tony said, without looking up from the screen he was fiddling with. Wanda collapsed into giggles, which made me grin because it was always nice to see her forgetting her insanely unusual circumstances to act like a regular eighteen year-old.

'I’m confident that Miss Eskine is quite capable of walking herself, Captain,’ Vision said, trying as always to be helpful and rather missing the point.

'He’s still got longer legs than me, Vis,’ I pointed out, but did prod Steve in the chest. 'Put me down, you colossus, or I’m going to get a nosebleed up here.’

He obligingly plopped me into a sitting position on the edge of the nearest counter and then turned around to lean back against it between my legs. I wrapped my arms around his chest from behind and rested my cheek between his shoulder blades, as usual trying to focus on just having a good hug and not the feel of all that hard muscle pressed up between my thighs. Because of  _course_  the fates would see fit to give my soulmate the body of a god…along with a complete disinterest in doing anything to me with it.

 _Hush that thought_. I pushed the now-familiar regret away and shuffled up a bit so I could perch my chin on his shoulder. At least Steve never exhibited any reluctance to get cuddly.

'You know, if someone took a photo and shared that we’d hear hearts breaking all over the state,’ Sam observed from the coffee machine. 'Not to mention the inevitable rioting at the gates.’

'Shut up,’ Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

'Let 'em riot,’ I retorted, kissing him on the cheek. 'I’ll beat off every dizzy dame on the west coast if I have to.’

'Well, this is  _nauseating_ ,’ Tony said, standing up. 'Think I’ll head down to the lab before it gets any worse…’

'You’re just being Mister Cranky because Pepper’s at that conference in Europe without you,’ I teased.

'Yes, I am  _eminently_  jealous that I don’t get to spend five  _days_  sitting in an economic forum listening to boring lectures,’ he replied sarcastically. 'That  _must_ be it.’

'Like your ass could spend five days  _sitting_.’

That was a new voice from the doorway and I had to laugh at the mocking tone as Colonel Rhodes came in with Natasha, although she looked rather grim-faced.

'Instant abuse. Charming.’ But Tony did get up to greet his friend. 'I take it from the dour expressions this isn’t a social call?’

'Got a lead on Rumlow,’ Nat supplied. 'Mali.’

'The Mali in Africa?’ Sam exclaimed.

'No, the one in Nebraska,’ Rhodes said witheringly. 'Small town called Massantola, just outside Bamako. Arms convoy passing through got interfered with in a seriously destructive way, and most of the reports talk about a guy in all black body armour with a white x spray painted over the chest.’

'Sounds like Rumlow,’ Steve said, straightening up and shifting immediately into Captain Mode. I let go of him and hopped down; cuddles and needling Tony were one thing, but Brock Rumlow was ex-HYDRA – one of the many agents who’d been implanted into the now-dismantled SHIELD – and the team had been trying to track him down for well over two years at this point.

He’d also tried to electrocute Steve into submission in an elevator and then murder him, which didn’t do much to endear the man to me on a personal level, but that was rather a moot point at this stage.

'We got tracking on the remains of the convoy heading east, but can’t stay hands off forever,’ Nat went on.

'Hands off is overrated.’ Tony flipped his screen closed and tossed it onto the coffee table. 'This guy is  _seriously_  pissing me off. I vote all-in on this one. Cap?’

Steve folded his arms and considered.

'Area siterep?’

I tried not to bite my lip – he was  _impossibly_  sexy when he went all tactical, especially because the first consideration in his mind was the likelihood of civilian casualties from innocent bystanders – and tucked my hands into the back pockets of my jeans to keep them occupied.

'Minimal collateral potential,’ Nat said. 'Whole bunch of empty desert road and some mountains. We time it right and this’ll be as clean as it is quick.’

'All right, then. Let’s suit up. Someone call Bruce in – we can’t be sure what Rumlow’s sitting on and if the area’s remote enough then we might need to call a Code Green.’

'Already done,’ she assured him.

'Thanks.’ While the others hurried out to get prepped, Steve turned to me apologetically. 'Sorry for the notice, but-’

'This is the best lead on Rumlow for months,’ I finished. 'Of  _course_  you need to follow it up. Go on, if you’re last down to the hangar you’ll have to listen to Sam  _and_  Tony bitching about it all the way across the Atlantic.’

'…good point.’

By now of course I had the timing of the team’s deployment prep down to a fine art, so I grabbed some protein bars – plus a little baggy of trail mix for Tony – and flipped the kettle on so I could make Bruce a flask of the camomile and lemongrass tea he liked to help ease himself back into being fully human after a Code Green. Hopefully he wouldn’t need it, of course, but better safe than sorry.

When I turned around to head down to the hangar I nearly had a heart attack, because Bucky was sort of lurking by the island counter and dear god he could move like a cat.

'Mission,’ I said by way of explanation, pouring the tea into Bruce’s thermos – it was green, of course, with an angry face drawn on it in Sharpie because Sam Wilson needed a slap – while tossing some other odds and ends into the container. Not for the first time it occurred to me that if the media knew the mighty Avengers went out to save the world with an enormous Tupperware snack box in the quinjet’s gear locker then the team would probably lose some of its mystique.

'You don’t-’ Bucky began with a frown ’-you don't…go with them, do you?’

'Oh, lord no.’ I couldn’t help the chuckle that snuck out. 'I just pack their lunches, sew mittens into their coats and fret by the door until they get home.’ A thought suddenly occurred. 'Um. I know you’re officially supposed to keep to the residence, but do you want to come down with me and…see them off?’

He gave me a long, unreadable look.

'Sure.’

'He’s not coming,’ Tony said, not missing a beat from the preflight checks he was running as we reached the hangar.

'We’re just seeing Steve off,’ I shot back, 'So untwist your panties, Iron Britches.’

'Is this or is this  _not_  technically  _not_  part of the residential complex?’

'Shut up and eat your protein.’ I threw him the baggie. 'It’s got the coconut bits in it, too, before you ask.’

'You  _know_  I don’t like being handed stuff!’

'That’s why I threw it at you. Wanda, there’s some Tylenol in there in case you need to throw any tanks around again,’ I added, giving her the box because she could be trusted not to dig through most of it before they even left US airspace. 'Only maybe, you know,  _don’t_.’

'Thank you, Tessa.’

'Bruce, your tea and your headphones-’ I really  _did_  feel like I should be pinning mittens to people at this stage ’-and  _yes_ , Sam, there are wine gums in the box so don’t start.’

'All  _right_!’

'Tony, don’t forget to message Pepper because if she gets back before you do…’ I added warningly.

'I’m doing it, I’m doing it!’

Steve came down the stairs at that point so I went to the rack and picked up his shield – I certainly couldn’t throw it anywhere near as hard as he could, but the vibranium was insanely light so just hefting it didn’t give me any difficulties – to hook it onto his back as I always did. It was patently unnecessary, especially as he usually stowed it on the bracket in the jet as soon as he got on board, but it had become a little pointless part of the goodbye ritual so I did it anyway.

'Be safe.’ I touched my cheek to his. 'Kick ass. In that order.’

He smiled.

'Yes, ma'am.’

'What’s the job?’ Bucky asked.

'Bruck Rumlow,’ Steve supplied, adjusting the straps on his armour. 'Former HYDRA infiltrator, gone freelance.’

Bucky’s jaw twitched and several plates in his arm shifted as his metal fist clenched and then forcefully relaxed.

'Watch yourself.’

'Always do, buddy.’ Steve replied lightly

'Seriously though,’ I put in, 'You’d  _better_  not get hurt, because he actually  _can_  beat you up, rather than just spouting empty threats like I do.’

'You heard the lady, punk,’ Bucky said with the merest hint of a smile.

'Noted.’ Steve clapped him on the shoulder, chucked me gently under the chin and then strode into the jet as the rear door began to close.

’ _All aboard for sunny Mali_ ,’ Tony said over the intercom. ’ _Hey, FRIDAY, how about a little transatlantic travelling music?_ ’

I could have sworn I heard Bruce’s dim mutter of  _oh god please not again_  before the opening chords of  _Rock You Like A Hurricane_  started up in a blare at the same time as the roar of the jet’s engines.

’ _Dammit Wilson, I told you to STAY OFF MY PLAYLISTS_!’

'Earth’s mightiest heroes,’ Maria Hill said with a sigh from the control console as the plane rocketed away, although her expression was still markedly affectionate. 'More like the world’s worst travelling frat party circus.’

'You’d know more about that,’ I shot back, grinning. 'I just keep them fed and caffeinated.’

Rolling her eyes, she picked up her data slate and strode out, probably already tuning in to do an on-the-fly detailed briefing for the team. I turned to Bucky, who looked understandably bemused by the entire performance, and found myself hastily trying to scheme up a way to stop him from vanishing back to his room.

'You – uh – you want some pancakes?’ was unfortunately what came out. I’ve never been much for scheming.

He blinked.

'What?’

'Pancakes.’ I wavered for a moment. 'You did have pancakes in the forties, right?’

Another tiny shadow of a smile.

'I know what pancakes are.’

'Right. Well. You want some? Late brunch, sort of thing?’

'…late  _what_?’

So I made pancakes while trying to explain the concept of brunch – which I later found out had actually originated as a term in the 1930s but clearly not reached the lower working classes of inner NYC by 1941 – and tried not to be put off by the intensity of Bucky’s stare. He sat there on a stool at the island counter and watched me whisk batter like he was expecting me to pull a gun out of the cutlery drawer at any second.

'Okay, we got chocolate or raspberry sauce since Nat has emptied the syrup again…’ I waved both bottles at him '…so what’s your poison?’

'Surprise me.’

'Both it is.’

Watching Bucky eat pancakes was something of an education – I don’t think I’d ever seen someone eat anything with quite such incredulity before, and that included Steve’s first experience of my homemade jalfrezi – but then god only knew what HYDRA had been feeding him, and I doubted hiding out in the backwaters of eastern Europe allowed for much in the way of a comfortable diet.

I did wish he’d stop staring at me though. I was self-conscious enough while stuffing my face with chocolate sauce-covered pancakes without that kind of ceaseless scrutiny.

'Steve likes blueberries on his,’ I said eventually, figuring at least one of us should probably try and make some conversation. 'Problem is keeping him away from them long enough for them to end up  _on_  something else.’

That elicited no visible response whatsoever, just a continuation of that owlish gaze. For a moment I wondered if I’d actually even spoken aloud, but managed  _not_  to let myself babble out something else stupid and irrelevant as was my usual inclination when nervous.

After the last mouthful Bucky regarded his fork thoughtfully for a moment and then looked back at me.

'Thanks.’

'Uh. You’re welcome.’ I busied myself clearing the plates, put some coffee on and then was once more at a loss. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that yes, his gaze was still on me. It was like being stared at by a shark, and that set my babbling instinct off again before I could reel it in. 'Sorry we were out of syrup, Natasha has a  _major_  issue with that stuff, Sam swears blind he’s seen her put it on  _toast_ …’

He folded his arms on the countertop but remained silently impassive. Good god, the man was a sphinx. Was he  _trying_  to creep me out?

'So. Um.’ This was painful. Steve and I didn’t exactly have an overflowing cup when it came to shared life experiences but at least he made an  _effort_. 'Do you have a-’ inspiration struck ’-a list, yet?’

Bucky cocked his head ever so slightly.

'A list?’

'Yeah. You know, a catchup list? Steve has this little notebook he carries around. World events, books, music, movies, that kind of thing. He likes ticking them off. Says it helps him feel like he’s making progress.’

'No.’ Another tiny, barely-there not-quite-a-smile. 'I don’t have a list.’

'Well! You should.’ I left the kitchen area and dug around in one of the cupboards; despite Tony’s protestations I tended to keep mundane things like notepads and pencils about in case Steve experienced doodling urges. Finding a suitably palm-sized one, I snagged a biro and plopped myself onto the stool next to Bucky. 'So shall we start in 1945 and work forward, or-’

'How about you pick me some highlights,’ he said softly.

'Uh. Okay.’ Well, that was a hell of an idea. How did one go about summarising well over seven decades? I tried to think of what was on the top of Steve’s list. 'Oh! Moon landing. 1969.’

’ _Moon_  landing?’ he echoed, and I abruptly realised that probably nobody had shown him the internet yet.

'Yup. Men on the moon.’ Digging out my phone, I pulled up the footage on YouTube.

Bucky’s jaw actually dropped, which was such a reassuringly normal reaction for a man who’d been out of time since the forties that it made me grin. Then I remembered what Steve had said about his friend’s enthusiasm for old science fiction stories.

'Let’s see,  _The Time Machine_ …we’ll make sure it’s the 1960s version though, George Pal was a genius and that Guy Pearce remake was an atrocity so if anyone mentions that you tell them where to stick it. Shame nobody’s ever done a decent take on  _The War Of The Worlds_ , although…oh, of course! The Jeff Wayne musical is  _amazing_ -’

'A  _musical_?’ he echoed doubtfully. 'Someone made a music hall version of  _that_?’

'Well, it’s more of a radio drama type thing to be fair but it’s still the best adaptation of the story.’ I wracked my brain for what else. 'The fifties  _Journey to the Centre of the Earth_  isn’t bad, I guess…’ reaching for my phone again, I started typing '…when was that decent version of  _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ …’

'I’ve seen that.’

I paused and glanced at him.

'You’ve seen the movie of  _20,000 Leagues_ -’

'1916, Allan Holubar. The Drafthouse ran it in the late twenties with a bunch of other old reels before they cleared 'em all out.’

It took everything I had not to boggle at him – of course, he was talking about the old  _silent_ version.

'There’s – uh – there’s another one. Several, in fact.’

'Huh.’

'Let me think, what else…still waiting on a decent version of  _Brave New World_ , and nobody’s done justice to anything from Rice Burroughs yet…’

'Stapledon?’

I blinked.

'As in,  _Last and First Men_?’

'Or  _Star Maker_.’ He constructed a noncommittal shrug. 'I finished that one not long before I shipped out. Didn’t like the ending so much. Got a bit…religious.’

I broke into an enormous grin at that. Dear god, this steel-eyed hunk from the forties was an early prototype  _nerd_.

'Where’ve you  _been_  all my life, Bucky?’ Then I started scribbling. 'I’m just going to put the whole of the SF Masterworks list on there, Alistair Reynolds, Iain M Banks…oh, if you liked most of  _Star Maker_ then you are going to  _love_  Stephen Baxter. You can borrow my copy of  _Dune_  if Steve ever gives it back, too. Skip the film though, it’s rubbish. What else…hmm…oh,  _Leviathan Wakes_  of course, and frankly anything by Neal Stephenson or Adam Roberts… _oh_ , and Ray Bradbury, you missed him too.’ I stopped then, realising that the front two pages of the notebook looked like the world’s most eclectic science fiction reading list. 'That's…probably enough books for now, I think. Let’s see… _Star Wars_ , of course,  _Star Trek_  and  _The Next Generation_ , maybe a little of DS9 although you’d be better just watching  _Babylon 5_. Hmm. _Stargate, 2001, Alien_ ,  _Blade Runner_ , all those great fifties classics like  _The Day The Earth Stood Still_  and  _Forbidden Planet_  and – oh, did you see  _Metropolis_? That was 1927 so you’d have been what, ten years old? I’ll put it down just in case.  _Close Encounters_ ,  _Jurassic Park_ ,  _Planet of the Apes_ …ooh,  _Firefly_  and  _Serenity_ , that’s basically a Western in space plus it’s freaking  _brilliant_ -’

'You’re beautiful.’

’-what?’ That stopped me right in my tracks, which was no small feat considering I was essentially listing out most of my favourite genre media for the last fifty years. For a moment I genuinely thought I’d misheard him.

'I said, you’re beautiful.’

'No I’m not.’ That sort of blurted out on a reflex. 'I mean – well, I’m not.’ Then I had to blink a few times to mentally regroup. 'I – uh – what? I’m sitting here basically  _ranting_  at you about science fiction stuff and…’ further protest sort of trailed off when he lifted his right hand to gently touch my face.

'You  _are_  beautiful,’ he insisted, fingertips trailing along my jawline as if in utter wonderment.

'I’m really,  _really_  not,’ I said, utterly stupefied at that declaration. 'I mean… _Nat_  is beautiful.  _Wanda_  is beautiful. I’m just…like… _super_  ordinary.’

'They got nothing on you, doll.’ His voice softened as his palm spread out to cup my cheek. 'You’re the most beautiful damned thing I ever saw.’

My mouth opened and closed a couple of times but nothing came out, partially because nobody had ever called me anything of the sort before and also because  _good god_  he seemed to have at least partially rediscovered his natural Brooklyn drawl which was like the vocal equivalent of molten chocolate.

'Whenever you’re in the room…I can’t stop just  _looking_  at you,’ he went on, shaking his head a little as though in disbelief at himself.

'I thought you were just…uh…I don’t even know. Trying to get me to keep my distance, or something.’

His face fell and the hand dropped.

'I scare you.’

'No –  _no_!’ I shook my head quickly to refute that. 'Definitely not that. I mean the staring is a little – uh – a little weird, I’ll admit, but you don’t  _scare_  me. And you can stop that,’ I added, noticing the way his metal hand sort of curled in on itself as though trying to hide in the cuff of his sleeve. 'Between Wanda’s mini panic attack when she went up half a dress size and Sam  _still_  trying to compare his arms to Steve’s, body shaming is  _not_  allowed in this compound.’ To prove the point I reached down and took hold of the damned thing with both hands. 'See?’

He didn’t seem very convinced so I decided to try turning brisk.

'The gang are probably going to be gone a while and I prefer to have something to do other than sitting around worrying about Steve – well, all of them I guess, but especially Steve – so how about we start checking stuff off this newly-minted list?’

'…all right.’

'All  _right_. FRIDAY, can you get  _A New Hope_  up, please?’

It was hard not to notice the careful way Bucky positioned himself next to me on the couch so his metal arm was furthest away, but I decided not to mention it for now. Baby steps, and all. I was glad I’d persevered post-pancakes, though, not least because the gobsmacked-little-boy face he kept making at the various set pieces was just downright adorable.

'You want to watch the next one?’ I asked as the credits rolled, earning myself an incredulous look.

'There’s  _more_?’

So for the second time in the last three months I sat with a super-soldier from the forties and binge-watched the  _Star Wars_  trilogy. Not that it was much of a hardship, admittedly. I did risk shuffling up a bit closer, though, and then as the Ewoks started dropping rocks on the stormtroopers thought  _screw it_  and sort of inserted myself under Bucky’s arm so I could burrow against his side properly. He didn’t seem to mind – or notice – until FRIDAY turned the screen off, and then just looked down at me with a tiny little lopsided grin.

’ _There_  it is.’ Reaching up, I gently traced one finger along the side of his mouth.

'There’s what?’ he asked, catching it in his other hand.

'That smile.’ I giggled. 'The smile that broken a hundred hearts a night in Brooklyn.’

He actually gave a little chortle at that, shaking his head.

'What’s that punk been telling you about me?’

'He didn’t need to  _tell_  me anything,’ I shot back. 'I know a rake when I see one.’

Another chuckle, but his smile broadened a little to show teeth. I echoed it and tucked my head under his chin,  _impossibly_  happy when he lifted his other arm to encircle my back rather than freezing up or shying away. Metal shoulder or not, he was just as cuddly as Steve. I suddenly had an image of snuggling up between the pair of them and had to bite my lip to stop from making a rather inappropriate noise. Me and my pair of super soldiers.  _How the hell did I get lucky enough to have this become my life_?

'You want to watch something else?’ I asked. 'I was going to make some more coffee. Can’t usually sleep very well when Steve’s on-mission anyway.’

'Sure.’

We actually got most of the way through the first season of the original series of  _Star Trek_  that evening, although I dozed off somewhere around  _Balance of Terror_  and woke up just as the first rays of sunlight were peaking through the blinds on my window.

I rolled over, aware I was still in my clothes from last night, and groped out blindly, half expecting – or hoping – to find a sleeping weight beside me, but of course there wasn’t one, so I had a shower and sloped back into the kitchen to make something to eat.

Then I glanced back from the stovetop and nearly jumped out of my skin, because Bucky was standing  _right_  there.

'Jesus H Christ! How the  _hell_  are you so quiet?’

'Sorry.’

'Well if you’re done being a ninja for now, will you at least sit down and stop  _lurking_  while I make you an omelette?’

'Yes, ma'am.’

Afterwards I convinced him to go for a walk; the compound had plenty of big-windowed corridors so it was a little like ambling around some enormous mall after all the shops had closed. It was a gorgeous day outside, too, so for the hell of it I steered us to one of the side doors.

’ _Sergeant Barnes is still restricted to the compound, Miss Eskine_ ,’ FRIDAY reminded me.

'We’re going for a walk on the lawn, FRIDAY, not a drive downtown.’ Taking Bucky by the hand, I tugged him out into the sunlight. A bit of fresh air would probably do him good; it certainly seemed to lend a healthier flush to his cheeks, and I had to admit that the way the breeze ruffled his dark hair lent a certain ruggedly mysterious air to his already-handsome features.

'Need to get you a cloak and hood,’ I said, tucking a few rogue locks behind his ear. 'Maybe a nice sword from an ancient kingdom.’

'Huh?’

’ _The Lord of the Rings_ , 1954.’ Then I laughed when he extracted the notepad from one pocket and added the title with a careful hand. 'That’s the spirit.’

We had a little bit more of a walk and ended up sitting down on one of the small rises near the garage. Knowing Tony the bumps in the lawn probably housed generators or shielding mechanisms or freaking anti-air batteries or something, but they also had a nice view of the long driveway and accompanying shrubbery.

'Steve likes sitting here to sketch,’ I observed. 'He says the light hits the buildings just right in the mornings.’

'Him and his damned scribbles.’

'They’re  _good_ ,’ I protested, and nudged him. 'Be supportive! He’s your soulmate too!’

'He draw you yet?’

That drew me up short.

'Uh. No. Why-’

'He always said he wanted to. You know…if we ever found you.’ Bucky’s hand came up to stoke my cheek. 'Someone ought to.’

I felt my cheeks blush fluorescent and a giggle escaped.

'You’re too smooth by half, Barnes. Second I saw that photo I knew you’d be trouble!’

'…the good kind of trouble?’

Still giggling, I thumped him lightly on the chest but didn’t bother resisting when he looped an arm around me to draw me against his side. The hand that had been on my cheek slid up to stroke through my hair, and with a little sigh I leaned against his shoulder. Admittedly the metal beneath the shirt on that side wasn’t the comfiest thing ever but damned if I was going to give HYDRA the satisfaction of not cuddling any bits of one of my soulmates just because of their weird cybernetic machinations.

That was apparently the right call because I could  _feel_  Bucky starting to relax. When he gingerly lifted his metal hand to settle it on my waist I gave up and shifted over a bit so I was more or less in his lap, then tucked my head under his chin again. Hmm. Perhaps I should have checked he was okay with being so tactile, first. Not that he seemed to object to me clinging to him like a limpet. Maybe Steve had warned him.

When he leaned back a little without letting go of me I risked glancing up and found myself smiling like the world’s biggest soppy idiot; his head was tilted back and eyes closed against the sunlight but there was an undeniably more tranquil expression on his face.

How long had it been since he’d been able to just sit in the sun, I wondered with a twinge of sadness, which shifted rapidly to mild alarm when he suddenly straightened and looked around warily.

'What is it?’ I asked.

'You don’t hear that?’

'We’re not all super soldiers – oh!’ Then I did. 'That sounds like the quinjet.’ They’d been gone less than twenty-four hours, which was either very good…or very bad. 'We’d better get back inside.’

Once we were I made a beeline for the hangar, keeping my hand in Bucky’s as much for reassurance as from the desire to tow him along.

'FRIDAY, is everyone okay?’

’ _The boss said to tell you not to panic and nobody’s bleeding on the floor. Just a dead end on the lead is all._ ’

'Oh, thank god.’ I immediately slowed, then had to stop and lean against the wall for a moment as my knees momentarily gave way.

'You all right?’ Bucky asked.

'Yeah – yeah. Sorry. Just such a fast in-and-out generally means someone took a beating, or bullet, or both, and I can never quite shake the image of Steve just…you know.’

He hugged me, which was immensely cheering because it was the first one he’d really initiated.

'You still want to go meet the idiot at the door?’

'Definitely. I’ll be fine once I see him grumping about because he didn’t get to beat on a bad guy.’

In fairness to Steve he wasn’t so much grumpy as frustrated, but he still dipped his cheek to touch mine and exhaled very slowly as if trying to banish the feeling before stepping off the end of the ramp.

'Son of a bitch is a freaking  _ghost_!’ Sam Wilson was typically more effusive – gesticulating wildly while hauling his suit over to the racks. 'I swear to god-’

'Bitching about it won’t help,’ Wanda pointed out.

'Monitoring’s all back on and dialled up,’ Tony added as he sauntered out. 'Need to feed the last confirmed sightings into the algo, but once I do if this guy farts anywhere near anything with wireless, we’ll hear about it.’

'Let’s fall out for now,’ Steve said, straightening after giving me a very quick squeeze. 'Get some rest. We can pick the intel apart tomorrow.’

'Works for me,’ Tony said with a shrug. ’ _God_  I need a bath.’

'No comment,’ Nat shot back with a dry look.

Bucky and I fell into step on either side of Steve easily, despite the fact they both had longer legs than me.

'What happened?’ he asked.

'Guy just evaporated.’ Steve shook his head with a sigh. 'He’s too damned slippery. Trained by SHIELD, recruited by HYDRA…it was never going to be easy to track him down.’

'Douchebag,’ I muttered, with feeling, which earned me a mildly amused look.

'You never met him.’

'He tried to kill one of my soulmates and worked for the evil Nazi witch doctors who did horrible things to my  _other_  soulmate,’ I pointed out. 'Plus he beat up Sam. I like Sam.’

'If he’s HYDRA, or was-’ Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets and constructed something like a shrug ’-maybe I could help, take a look at Romanov’s intel.’

'What?’ Steve exclaimed.

'HYDRA’s infiltration MO is all up here-’ Bucky tapped his forehead ’-so in theory-’

'Absolutely  _not_ ,’ I snapped. 'That’s the most insane idea ever! Besides, Nat and Tony’ll find him. Sooner or later.’

'And if it’s  _later_?’

'What if it is?’

'Well, what’s Rumlow doing while he’s on the loose, huh? I’m willing to be he isn’t clearing driveways and helping old ladies across the street.’

'No, Buck, she’s right,’ Steve said firmly. 'It’s not worth the risk to you.’

'I’m just saying maybe-’

'We only just got you back,’ I protested, which apparently did the trick because he shut his mouth and sighed, glancing down at his boots.

'What have you guys been up to, anyway?’ Steve asked, wisely taking the opportunity to change the subject.

'We watched  _Star Wars_ ,’ I said proudly, taking the cue.

’ _All_  of it?’

'And most of the first season of  _Star Trek_.  _And_  we made a list. Well…I made it, I guess…’

'A list, huh?’

'Yup. And by the way, you need to hurry up and finish  _Dune_  so Bucky can borrow it.’

'I’m not even halfway through yet!’ he complained as we turned into the residential level.

'Well, read  _faster_.’ Grinning, I nudged him towards his door. 'Go shower and I’ll see if we’ve got any of those blueberry pop tarts left.’

'Pop tarts?’ He grinned right back. 'You missed me that much, huh?’

'We both did! Now go on, and get a move on.’ I gave him another nudge. 'Don’t make me come in there and check up on you, Rogers.’

Laughing and shaking his head, he ducked inside and closed the door. Deciding to forego the usual speculation on the matter of Steve showering, I turned back to Bucky.

'You want to help dig those pop tarts out before Nat goes on one of her post-mission sugar hunts?’

'What the hell are pop tarts anyway?’

’ _Oh my god_  I forgot you’d never – well now we  _better_  have some left…’

We did, in fact, including some of Steve’s favourites, although the others swung through at various intervals and tried to steal them. Bucky opted to try a chocolate one after carefully examining it from all angles as though expecting it to bite him. The look on his face when he tasted it was nearly as priceless as his expression when he’d found out that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father.

'Must be awkward for you,’ he said quietly once we were alone again. 'Two soulmates who don’t even understand how most of the world works these days.’

I shrugged.

'Not really. It’s more like getting to  _re_ discover all the cool stuff I’d normally take for granted, and doing  _that_  with the two people I – uh – well, I never expected to even  _meet_ , let alone crash on the couch with. Here,’ I added when Steve came in just as the toaster popped, 'Nat was on a hunt but I hid the last pair for you.’

'You’re the best.’ He accepted the plate with a smile and touched his cheek to mine before sitting down. 'So how’s your list looking, Buck?’

They ended up comparing, of course, which was probably for the best since nearly everything I’d written down for Bucky was hopelessly myopic, although I did try to contribute some less sci-fi focused suggestions too. After a bit of later debate we settled on Chinese for dinner and  _Close Encounters Of The Third Kind_  afterwards, and I tried not to roll about laughing at the sight of two battle-hardened super soldiers struggling to use chopsticks.

The sofa in my room was more than big enough for three people to collapse on, even if two of them were serum-enhanced beefcakes, but I did take the opportunity to shamelessly plant myself in the middle and made a show of wriggling to get myself comfortable.

Now, how the  _hell_  was I supposed to focus on anything Richard Dreyfuss was blathering on about when I had the world’s two hunkiest men sitting on either side of me, Steve with his arm thrown around my shoulders and Bucky with my hand firmly clasped on his knee?

After a bit I gave up, and I must have half-dozed off, too, because the next thing I heard was a low chuckle from Steve’s direction. With a small huff I turned over, still using his forearm as a pillow, and cuddled up against Bucky’s side.

'Is she asleep?’ he murmured.

'Not quite. Will be if we sit around much longer. Here-’

'I got her.’

I mumbled an incoherent protest at the disturbance as Bucky scooped me up, but that didn’t stop me hooking both arms up and snuggling into the crook of his neck. The scruff of his lengthening beard rasped a little against my skin but it made an oddly pleasing contrast. Steve wasn’t a fan of stubble and kept himself clean-shaven to the point of mild obsession, to Sam’s never-ending amusement.

'You can’t just stand there holding her all night, Buck!’

'Watch me, punk.’

'Put her to bed. Jerk.’

'You going to undress me too?’ I asked – sadly it came out more sleepy than hopeful – which got a short guffaw from Bucky and a chortle from Steve.

'Nobody’s undressing anybody.’ He did, however, pull the comforter over me and lean down to touch his cheek to mine. 'G'night, Tessa.’

'Mmph.’

There was a pause and then Steve spoke again.

'Buck, you coming?’

'Oh. Yeah.’

The following day was spent doing the series of minor chores that constituted the actual job Tony was paying me for, even if the big, soft nerd had invented the idea out of thin air just to permit Steve to have his soulmate in the building for semi-legitimate reasons.

Of course, Steve continued to show a total absence of any more  _less_  legitimate reasons to keep me around, but I squashed that thought back down as soon as it crept in again. In retrospect, however much I was enjoying yoga with the girls down in the gym, pausing mid-routine to observe my two hunky soulmates in a sparring workout was probably  _not_  conducive to calming down my libido.

'You know, I think Barnes is actually the better boxer,’ Nat said speculatively after a moment. 'But don’t tell Steve I said that.’

'Eh, I’m just wondering if I can run up to the kitchen and back down fast enough to get some jello to throw all over them,’ I quipped, which dissolved Wanda into giggles as I knew it would.

'Mmm.’ Nat arched an eyebrow with a smirk. 'Lot of ladies would call you a  _very_  lucky gal, Tessa.’

'I thought you preferred dorks with multiple PhDs,’ I shot back laughingly.

'Appreciating the real estate isn’t the same thing as wanting to move in.’

'It is  _nice_  real estate,’ Maria agreed with a sigh, then raised her hands defensively. 'What? I look with my eyes, not my hands!’ Then she grinned and winked. 'Not that I imagine a little creative Braille would be much hardship…’

'You can stay hands  _off_  those boys, thank you!’ I was giggling as much as Wanda now. 'Besides, they’re both very courteous and perfect gentlemen.’ A small grimace snuck out. 'Maybe a little  _too_ perfect…’

'This ain’t the forties, sister,’ Nat said, going back to her mat with another perfect Spock-style brow raise. 'Maybe you should seize the initiative.’

’ _Ha_!’

Maybe  _seizing the initiative_  was something that came naturally to the infamous Black Widow, but boring-ass former barista me wasn’t going to try putting the moves on either of her soulmates; firstly because I was no good at it and secondly because the boys were from the  _forties_ , for god’s sake. I didn’t have even the slightest idea what would  _constitute_  a move in their books.

That evening after dinner we piled up together again to watch  _Groundhog Day_  and I tried to put the whole shebang out of my mind, which actually worked more or less fine – I didn’t doze off on anyone this time, at least – then kept my mind firmly on other things by settling down afterwards with my copy of  _Neuromancer_. In fact I got so absorbed that the knock on my door made me jump, and a check of my clock as I put on my dressing gown revealed that it was nearly one in the morning. Whoops.

I was therefore pretty surprised to find Bucky on the other side of my door, barefoot in sweats and a t-shirt with his hair so mussed that a lot of it was sticking out from his head at rather unnatural angles.

'Did I wake you?’ he asked with a small frown. 'Your light was on.’

'I was reading, it’s okay.’ I motioned him inside and closed the door. 'Trouble sleeping?’

'Yeah, something like that.’ He ran both hands back through his hair, making it even more of a bird’s nest. 'Sorry I interrupted.’

'It’s okay.’ I sat down on the end of the bed and patted the spot next to me. 'Anything I can do? I can’t even  _begin_  to imagine the kind of insomnia you must get but…’ I trailed off in mild astonishment at the intensity of his stare as his eyes lifted back to mine.

'Tessa, if I don’t kiss you soon I swear I’m going to lose what’s left of my damned mind.’

For an instant I was sure my jaw had hit my lap. Bucky wanted to…

 _You’re the most beautiful damned thing I ever saw_.

Blame the soul bond, blame my raw libido from earlier, whatever the hell it was, I couldn’t stop myself from springing up and going to him, laying both hands on his chest. God, I could  _feel_  the tension in his muscles through the shirt.

'I don’t want you losing your mind, Buck,’ I said, astonished that my voice came out so steady. 'So I think you’d better kiss me.’

As he leaned in I caught a very brief glimpse of a surprisingly impish grin, then his lips were on mine and instantly the rest of the wider universe could go hang because my  _soulmate_ , my beautiful, broken Bucky, was kissing me. At first it was gentle, almost tentative, but when I pressed up against him and slid my arms around his neck it was like the pull of a trigger. In a moment he was practically licking down my throat, his mouth fastened hungrily on my own, and I could have quite happily continued getting drunk off the taste of him if the need for air hadn’t started to become rather urgent.

Both gasping, we broke off, but I was more than a little dismayed when he let go of me and backed off a couple of steps, scrubbing at the back of his neck.

'Damn.’ Then he looked up at me and shook his head. ’ _Dammit_.’

'Uh.’ I pulled my dressing gown a little tighter around myself defensively. 'Was that…not good?’

Another head shake, this time with a low chuckle, but when his gaze again lifted to meet mine I heard myself actually  _gulp_  at the raw heat in it.

'Doll, I should’ve known the second I got taste of you it’d just make me want more,’ he said, and surely men’s voices only went all dark and raspy like that in movies? Of course, I was too busy melting into a little puddle of goo to care much about that minor consideration at the time.

'…sorry.’ He grimaced, my gaping hesitance seeming to have thrown him off somewhat. 'I just barged in here…we only  _met_  a couple of weeks ago…not like I even have any…y'know…rubbers…’

For some reason that broke the shock and I burst out laughing before I could help myself.

'Okay, first of all, I got stuff in place means we don’t have to worry about that, so you can add  _modern birth control_  to your list of things to learn about, and second…’ in a moment of positively explosive assertiveness, I pulled the knot in my robe’s sash undone and tossed it behind me. Since all I normally wore to bed was an oversized t-shirt that barely reached halfway down my thighs, that would hopefully let him fill in the rest of the invitation himself.

Five seconds later I was on my back on the bed with Bucky’s arms braced on either side of my head as he levered himself up over me. Message received, presumably. I threw my arms around him as he drowned me in another kiss before trailing his mouth down to the crook of my neck.

Oh, there was going to be a mark there come morning…and now he was leaning on his metal elbow while the other hand trailed slowly down to start inching up the edge of my top. His fingers brushed the very top of my thigh and he drew back a little.

…oh,  _there_  was that sinful grin that had broken a hundred Brooklyn hearts.

'I suppose nighties in the forties were a bit more involved? And yes,’ I added, 'The shirt is  _all_  I’m wearing.’

'Still too much,’ he shot back playfully, and before I could say anything else he’d shucked the damned thing off me and thrown it away. Then he let out a long, slow whistle between his teeth. ’ _Damn_ , doll…’

I squirmed a little, aware I was blushing more or less all over – in my defence it had been a bit of a dry spell anyway, as if someone with a soul mark like mine had  _ever_ had an easy time getting dates – and reached up to tug pointedly at the hem of his t-shirt.

'Fair’s fair, mister.’

'In a second.’ Then his head dropped down to start exploring with his mouth, and in short order I was nothing but a gasping, wriggling mess beneath him. He was still leaning on his metal arm and the fingers of his other hand were making devastatingly accurate examinations of my body. In fact he was playing me like a damned violin, and all I could do was grind up against him and try feebly to hook at least one leg around his waist.

Oh-ho, those sweats weren’t doing a very good job of concealing how much he was enjoying himself, either. That gave me the incentive to finally get my left leg up over his hip. I pushed my foot down in the small of his back but might as well have tried to move a slab of concrete for all the effect it had.

'For god’s sake Bucky, will you please let me take your  _damned clothes off_!’ Then I shoved at him as hard as I could – still to no avail of course – and started actively pulling at the t-shirt until he reluctantly sat up and let me yank it off over his head.

 _Good lord_. For a moment I was lost in tracing the lines of his muscles with my fingertips, but then I realised he’d dropped his head and shied away a little. His hair had fallen over his eyes and he was almost trying to shift his right side behind himself for some reason – oh.  _Oh_. I’d never seen how his metal arm joined to the flesh of his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a seamless job, but then I suppose HYDRA hadn’t really been concerned much with aesthetics. The join was a little irregular, the skin stretched taut in some places while tightly puckered in others, and the whole thing was a mess of long-healed scar tissue around the graft.

I bent forward and nosed gently at the crook of his neck, trailing my lips slowly down to leave a trail of soft kisses as far along the join as I could reach. Then I shifted to lean around his side, and did the same to the reverse of his shoulder blade before sitting back on my heels.

He was staring at me again, all mirth vanished from his face and replaced by something far more intense. His left hand came up to cup my cheek.

Deliberately, I lifted the metal one to do the same on the other side and then nuzzled into it, leaving another kiss on the cold palm. Both his thumbs came up to stroke the skin beside my eyes.

'You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured.

I couldn’t help but smile, and touched my lips briefly to his.

'So are you.’

This time when I nudged his side he did move, laying on his back as I pushed at his shoulders. I could feel him slowly relaxing as I showered his face and chest with more kisses and caresses, and finally I trailed my mouth down the plane of his stomach until I hit the barrier of his waistband.

Well nuts to this, here I was all naked and he still had pants on.

He obligingly lifted his hips when I pulled at the sweats, dragging them fully off his legs and discarding them behind me. His cock was rock hard and weeping, and definitely built…in proportion to the rest of him. Whatever else was in super soldier serum, good old steroids apparently got left out. Thank god.

When I stooped to take a long lick his whole body shuddered and then he was pulling me up, manoeuvring me underneath him again and kissing me deeply.

'Not good?’ I asked, trying not to sound disappointed and rather failing.

'I’m ending a seventy year dry spell, doll,’ he said with a touch of amusement. 'Won’t last long and want  _you_ …’

I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped at that reminder. Admittedly he’d spent a lot of the last seven decades either in cryo or under HYDRA’s direct control, but still…ouch. Poor guy. Then he shifted and started to snake his right hand down between us, before pausing and looking at it awkwardly.

Not wanting him to keep flinching at the damned thing, I reached down myself to guide the limb, but couldn’t help the shudder when the cool metal made contact with the very heated spot between my thighs.

'You said you can still…feel with it…right?’

He nodded, eyes now fixed on mine as his metallic fingers moved and explored. It felt  _impossibly_ good, as if I wasn’t turned on enough already, and in short order I was more or less humping his hand unashamedly.

'Oh  _god_ -’

My eyes clenched shut but I could have still sworn I saw actual stars for a few seconds. I was still coming down when Bucky kissed me deeply, then flexed his hips and replaced his fingers with his cock, right where it needed to be. The stretch of him was absolutely delicious; I arched my back, wrapping my arms around him as he buried his face against my throat with a soft gasp and started to move. At first it was slow, almost languorous, like he was finding his stride, but it didn’t take long before the snap of his hips sped up and his hands wound tightly into the sheets where he was bracing himself above me.

I stretched up and fixed my mouth on this throat to return the favour of the earlier hickey, which seemed to clinch the deal. With a deep moan he came, his movements stuttering to a gradual halt, and I couldn’t help the sigh of satisfaction that snuck out at the feeling of him filling me up.

It took a long few seconds before Bucky shifted off me, withdrawing with a small shiver and collapsing alongside me on his stomach. I half rolled over and propped my head up on my elbow while using my other hand to trace meaningless shapes on his back. Cleanup could wait a minute.

Finally he looked at me again, eyes bright and deep.

'You are…something else, you know that?’

'Says the guy who hasn’t got any in seventy years,’ I teased.

He chuckled and shifted onto his side, reaching out to trail a finger down from my ribs to my hip.

'Think I remembered where everything goes…’

'Oh, definitely.’ Grinning, I snuggled up closer and pecked him on the lips. 'That was  _amazing_. Just a sec.’

'Huh?’

I popped to the bathroom but had barely taken two steps into the bedroom on the way back when he intercepted me and swept me into a far more involved kiss. My back hit the wall and then he was lifting my legs up around his waist without separating his mouth from mine. I locked my ankles together in the small of his back, which made it very apparent that as well as still being as naked as I was, he was apparently more than ready for another round.

It was nearly three when we finally collapsed into a sweaty heap of very sated unconsciousness. Apparently the super soldier serum boosted  _all_  kinds of stamina, not to mention dramatically reducing the normal male refractory period. Now there was a thing worth knowing. Not that I was going to complain.


	3. Together

I woke up warm, comfortable, aching all over and not minding it one iota. Bucky was pressed up against my back with his nose in my hair, one arm thrown over my waist and the other stuffed beneath the pillow. He made a small, sleepy noise of protest when I turned over to face him, and then resumed softly snoring.

A loud knock made me start, and all at once Bucky was bolt upright and scanning the room as though expecting HYDRA goons to burst out of the lampshades.

’ _Tessa_?’ Steve’s voice drifted from outside the door. ’ _Are you okay_?’

What in the world…? Oh. It was eleven in the morning,  _well_  past the usual time I normally got up – generally I was in the kitchen making breakfast by the time he and Sam got back from their morning run.

’ _Tessa_?’ Of course without an immediate response the great clod went into protective mode, and the damned door swung open as he ordered FRIDAY to override the privacy lock. ‘It’s me, are you-’

'Morning, Steve,’ Bucky said with a small grin.

'Bucky?’ Steve blinked twice, rapidly, as I carefully gathered the covers around myself for some semblance of modesty, and slowly sat up. 'You-’

'You find her?’ Sam’s voice drifted in from behind him, then he stuck his head in and broke into a broad grin like all his Christmases had come at once. 'Oh  _ho_ , no wonder the gal needed a sleep in…been on-mission with the Winter Soldier all damned night!’

'Don’t call him that, you assclown,’ I barked, hefting a pillow and taking careful aim.

'Woah, easy!’ Steve – now not an entirely dissimilar colour to Tony’s armour – held his hands up placatingly. 'It’s – it’s fine, it’s all fine. We’ll just, uh, we’ll just give you guys some privacy.’ He backed out in a hurry, dragging Sam with him, but I could hear the airman guffawing all the way up the corridor anyway.

'Whoops.’ Bucky’s grin broadened when I looked at him, and I had to laugh at the impish pleasure on his face.

'I’m having a shower,’ I announced, getting up, although as I rounded the end of the bed he neatly intercepted me and pulled me onto his lap. 'Bucky!’

'Why the sudden rush?’

'I need a  _shower_. I’m covered in-’ I had to bite my lip to hide my amusement ’-well, mostly I’m covered in  _you_ , actually.’

'Hmm.’ His hands slid up my thighs. 'You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing, doll.’

'Well I still want to be  _clean_ ,’ I managed, standing up again, 'So behave yourself.’

After a couple more false starts I did make it into the shower, but I’d barely got the soap in my hand before the partition slid back and the damned man got in  _with_ me. Although it was rather hard to complain about a wet, naked Bucky, especially when a mutually half-assed attempt to wash each other off turned into him screwing my brains out yet again right there against the tiles. It ended up being nearly midday by the time we actually emerged from my room, and I shooed him away to his for some fresh clothes.

Steve was parked in one of the armchairs with his sketchbook, but glanced up when I came in. I made a beeline for the coffee machine and tried to remember what that stuffy paper on triad dynamics had to say about this sort of thing. Clearly I needed to do some more reading.

'You okay?’ I finally asked. He paused for a moment, twirling the pencil around his fingers, then closed the book with a snap and came over to me.

'Both my soulmates are happy. Why would I not be okay?’

'It’s just – uh – I mean-’ I gave up when he touched his cheek to mine, pulling me into a quick hug.

'I was starting to think I’d never see Bucky crack a grin like that again. It’s good. Really.’

I cupped his cheeks in my palms as he drew back, wishing and  _wishing_  that I could just kiss him…

'But are  _you_ …happy?’

'If you are…and Bucky is.’ He smiled and covered my hands with his. 'Then, yeah. I am.’ A small snort. 'Be  _happier_  if we could nail down Rumlow, I’ll admit, but-’

'You’re standing in the kitchen, punk. Come off-mission for ten damned minutes,’ Bucky said as he came into the room.

That got a chuckle. I pecked Steve quickly on the tip of his nose and then crossed to meet Bucky, unable to help the small noise of surprise that escaped when he immediately swept me up into a fiery kiss.

'Sorry, Steve.’ He flashed a completely unapologetic grin. 'Been kind of hogging our girl here.’

'Don’t pretend you’re even a  _bit_  sorry, jerk,’ Steve shot back good-naturedly, rolling his eyes.

'If you’re quite done snarking at each other,’ I said pointedly. 'The coffee’s done.’

The next few days settled into a new sort of routine, where after dinner and the evening’s movie or TV show or historical YouTube research Steve would press his cheek to mine with a brief hug and depart, and then Bucky would drag me into bed. Not that he ever need to drag that hard.

'I am starting to feel a  _little_  bad,’ he admitted a week later when I was sprawled over his chest in the light of a single bedside lamp. He even had his metal arm around me, cool fingers stroking idly back and forth on my upper arm; it finally seemed to be sinking in that I didn’t find the limb in any way repulsive or frightening.

'Why?’ I asked, a little puzzled at the sudden pronouncement.

'Well, I  _am_  basically monopolising you. You should spend time with Steve…he’s your soulmate too.’

'I  _do_  spend time with Steve.’ I was a little hurt at the intimation there, because I’d been very particular about  _not_  just sticking to Bucky all day long. 'We still hang out when I’m cooking, or when he’s drawing or researching, and-’

'I know that stuff, I meant…you know.’ Bucky arched his eyebrows. ’ _Quality_  time.’

Oh.  _Oh_. That rather surprised me; I’d assumed the pair of them would have discussed the situation at least a bit.

'We don’t – er – I mean we never have.’ I constructed a shrug. 'Steve just doesn’t seem to think of me like that. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even find me attractive.’

'What?’ Bucky actually levered himself up on one elbow to stare at me in evident surprise. 'Since when?’

'Since always.’ I snuggled into him until he lay back down. 'It just isn’t like that between us. I mean, it isn’t a  _problem_ , I looked it up, not all soulmates are like that, especially in triads. Actually-’ with a small giggle ’-before you got here I kind of assumed you and he were…’

Bucky laughed.

’ _Definitely_  not, doll. The stupid punk’s my best friend and my brother and my soulmate but we ain’t neither of us friends of Dorothy.’

The following morning I Googled what exactly the hell that meant, although the implied meaning was clear enough from the context, and then ended up doing a  _lot_  more random reading on triad dynamics, especially the male-female-male variety where neither man was a big fan of Judy Garland, so to speak. Not that it helped much, of course, because lots of stoic theorising from a bunch of academics who barely had a regular soul mark, let alone a double, didn’t take much into account in the way of human reality.

Steve and Bucky were sitting together in the kitchen when I went in search of lunch, having a low-voiced conversation which abruptly stopped when they saw me.

'Well, now I’m paranoid  _and_  offended,’ I said, trying to sound flippant and not quite succeeding. Bucky flashed a smile and leaned over to give me a quick kiss, then shot Steve a clearly significant look and walked out, which only confused me further.

'…okaaay?’ What the hell was going on? I shook my head briefly and then turned around to the fridge. 'Was going to make a sandwich, you want one?’

'You really think I don’t find you attractive?’ Steve asked softly.

'Uh.’ Trying hard not to panic – god  _damn_  it, Bucky – I faced him again, warily. 'What exactly where you two  _talking_  about just now?’

'I think you know,’ he said, rising and coming around the counter so he was standing directly in front of me. 'Answer the question. Please.’

'I – uh – well-’ I gulped ’-no. I mean yes, I – I thought-’

'Why?’ he asked incredulously.

'Because you’ve never…you know…done or said anything to indicate otherwise?’ I folded my arms defensively. 'It isn’t like I could  _say_  anything. Not all soulmates are like that anyway and you’re from the  _forties_  and I’m no good at taking the lead on that stuff anyway, plus let’s face it you boys are both  _way_  out of my league-’

My ramble came to an abrupt stop when he kissed me. It was brief, painfully sweet and devastatingly fierce, and all I could do was boggle at him when he broke off.

'Tessa, I have  _never_  wanted  _anyone_  as much as I want you,’ he breathed, blue eyes locking deeply with mine. 'I didn’t want to put pressure on you and – well – I’m not exactly fluent at this anyway but I can’t  _believe_  you really thought-’

This time I cut him off, settling my hands on the back of his head to pull him close as the rest of the room, the compound and the  _world_  faded away. The next thing I knew he had my back against to the fridge door, his mouth slanting hungrily over mine again and again until we were both gasping.

'In the  _kitchen_ , guys?’ Sam’s voice from behind sounded abnormally loud, for some reason. 'Come  _on_! People have to  _eat_  in here!’

Steve broke off, lightly panting, but his gaze stayed on me, pupils blown wide and face deliciously flushed. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly in a silent question. I nodded quickly and in an instant he was moving, a firm grip on my wrist as he towed me towards the door.

'Maybe add basic food hygiene to that list of yours, Cap-’

'Shut up, Sam,’ Steve said without pausing, turning into the corridor at double time so I had to actually run to keep up with him. Kicking my door open he dragged me through it, turned, closed it and then pinned me to the other side with another searing kiss. He started scrabbling at the buttons on my blouse even as I went for the belt of his jeans; our hands clashed clumsily a few times but we managed to get everything off by the time we collapsed on the bed. Of course it was all I could do not to pinch myself; if Bucky was a god (and he was) then there were literally no words to describe Steve. He  _rippled_. I couldn’t keep my hands off him, just to prove to myself he was real.

When I felt his cock heavy and proud against my thigh I hooked both my legs up around his waist and pulled him down to me, peppering his face with kisses. He gave a low, masculine groan that sent a lightning bolt through my entire body, and I actually heard myself give a little whimper of protest when he pulled back from me.

'Are you sure – we don’t have a-’

'Oh my  _god_ , Steve!’ I let my head fall back, trying not to burst out laughing. 'It’s fine. Really. I’m covered. Will you  _please_  just-’

He cut me off with another kiss and settled his left hand on my hip as he started to ease in. I gasped and tried to push up to meet him but the damned man wouldn’t be hurried, and by the time he was seated to the hilt I was sure I was going to explode.

'Oh god,’ he muttered, dropping his face to the crook of my neck, and then started to move with such agonisingly slow, deep strokes that I was sure I was leaving claw marks down his back from how tightly I was gripping his shoulders.

'Steve – god –  _please_ -’ I managed, not able to articulate much more than that, but he seemed to get the message. One of his hands snaked underneath to the small of my back and  _damn_  if that didn’t tilt my body at the  _perfect_  angle…when his thrusts sped up every single one was hitting the sweetest of sweet spots; all I could do was hang onto him for dear life as every single one of my nerve endings lit up.

I’d never considered myself much of a screamer but I did cry out as the knot in my stomach burst and blossomed into an exquisite, all-encompassing heat. Steve lifted his head, his lips parting in a soundless gasp, and I lunged up to kiss them, rocking my hips to tease the last of the climax out of him for both of us.

The room gradually fell silent apart from some laboured breathing. After a few long moments Steve gingerly levered himself away and off me, half collapsing at my side with a little groan and rolling onto his back. I waited until I had my breath back a little and then tried to get up, which was tricky because most of my limbs were still jello.

'Hey-’ Steve reached for me and started to sit up too ’-where are you-’

'Just the bathroom. Stay there.’ I got myself sorted out and brought him a washcloth – he blushed charmingly at the necessity – then once we were both cleaned up I clambered back into the bed and lay on my side facing him with an enormous, idiotic grin plastered all over my face. He turned his head to look at me and echoed the expression, which was hopelessly adorable.

'Hey.’

'Hey.’ Propping myself up on one elbow, I trailed my other hand over his chest. 'Good talk.’

’ _Very_  good talk,’ he agreed.

'I’ll say this for you forties boys…may have been a while since you hit the floor but by god you remember all the steps,’ I couldn’t resist adding, snuggling into his side to get comfortable.

'Uh. Right. Well this was actually – uh – my first dance, so to speak.’

I felt my jaw drop, and half sat up in raw astonishment.

’ _What_?’

'Well I’ve never – uh – I mean-’ he gestured idly, and with evident nervousness ’-was it okay?’

'Oh my god.’ I burst out laughing, which probably wasn’t the most sensitive thing to do but his genuine apprehension was just too cute. 'Are you for  _real_? I love you so much.’ Then I leaned over to kiss him, feeling rather than seeing him smile against my mouth.

'I love you too,’ he murmured when our lips parted, and his fingers tangled through my hair. 'But…was it really okay?’

I collapsed against his chest in giggles.

'It was more than  _okay_ , Steve. You’re a natural.’

'Yeah?’ The grin turned lopsided as his hands slid down my sides. 'You want to…ah…make sure it wasn’t just beginner’s luck, maybe?’

It was rather late in the afternoon before we finally emerged, still  _very_  cuddly, and ventured into the kitchen as much to refuel as anything else. Nobody else seemed to be about – possibly Sam had sounded the alarm or posted a sign and the rest of the team had wisely decided to evacuate the area – so an initially straightforward plan to grab some snacks and a drink turned into an extended exercise of sitting on the couch in a tangle of limbs and feeding each other, interspersed with a  _lot_ of kisses and touching.

When a metallic hand snuck in between the two of us and stole a cracker, only Steve’s arm around my back stopped me from toppling over with a squeak of surprise.

'You’re welcome,’ Bucky said dryly, sitting down on my other side and leaning in to kiss me.

'Oh, this is all  _your_  doing, is it?’

'You two were being obtuse idiots.  _Someone_  had to intervene.’ He winked. 'Worth it, right? Especially since this punk seems to have finally found an even more fun hobby than punching Nazis…’

'Shut up, jerk,’ Steve said laughingly.

'Did he do it right?’ Bucky asked me with false seriousness. 'I thought I was going to have to draw him diagrams.’

Steve thumped him, evoking a snort of amusement, but all I could do was giggle helplessly at the pair of them while something warm and comforting and indescribably  _happy_  settled into my chest. Dimly I wondered if somehow it shouldn’t be more…well…awkward, or  _something_. I’d spent every night of the last week in Bucky’s arms and just slept with his best friend, but everyone involved just seemed delighted about it. Clearly dual soulmarks and linked triad dynamics overrode a lot of the conventional eccentricities of normal monogamy.

Not that I was going to complain.

We fooled around for a little longer before the boys decided to head down to the gym, so I kissed them both thoroughly and went off to handle some bits and pieces around the compound before putting the enormous pot of biryani on to cook; Pepper was back from her conference and had texted to say she was craving non-corporate company, so it was going to be an all-hands dinner.

The term  _all hands_ certainly took on new meaning that evening. With Bucky on my right and Steve on my left, both sitting considerably closer than the spacing at the table strictly needed, it was all I could do to make the appropriate polite noises in lieu of conversation when each of them settled a hand on one of my legs and spent the rest of the meal stroking, kneading or just generally making me more hyper-aware of their proximity than I already was. As if I needed the reminder.

'Well this has been swell, guys, and compliments to the oddly non-talkative chef,’ Tony said casually after his third bowl, 'But if you’ll excuse us, my CEO and I have some very critical – uh – logistical discussions which got tabled because of the conference, so-’

Pepper exploded into peals of laughter as he hauled her out of the room without a trace of embarrassment. Trying to ignore the fact that Bucky’s hand had settled indecently high on the inside seam of my jeans and Steve’s was tracing idle patterns on my other thigh, I cleared my throat.

'I do seem to recall an appointment we have with  _Ghostbusters_  on the couch in my room, guys.’

'That what the cool kids are calling it these days?’ Sam said, deadpan, without missing a beat.

'Can it, fat head,’ Bucky shot back, his accent thickening with the old-fashioned insult, and I kissed his cheek with a little smile.

'Hackles down, Buck. He’s just jealous I get you two all to myself, right flyboy?’

While Sam made exaggerated gagging noises and Wanda tried not to inhale her drink we departed, but it was  _very_  hard to pay much attention to Bill Murray’s various witticisms while sprawled across the couch with my head and shoulders in Bucky’s lap and my legs in Steve’s.

'…I’m fairly sure if a giant marshmallow guy turned up near here it wouldn’t get to do much rampaging before Nat savaged it with chocolate sauce and  _ate_  it,’ Steve observed.

'That’d be a quick path to its inevitable defeat,’ I agreed lazily, far more interested in the way Bucky was running his hands around under my shirt than discussing Natasha Romanov’s infamous sweet tooth.

When he shifted suddenly and gave a tug, I blinked in surprise and then burst into giggles at the sight of my bra held up triumphantly before he tossed it away. Steve burst out laughing.

'Are you even paying any attention to this damned movie, Buck?’

'Not really.’

'It’s nearly finished anyway,’ I said. 'Behave yourself a bit longer and then you can arm-wrestle or whatever you’re planning to do to pick who sleeps in here tonight.’

The two of them exchanged wry glances.

'What gave you the impression one of us was leaving?’ Bucky asked playfully.

’ _What_?’

'Think we never thought about it?’ Steve ran his hands up my legs and gave my thigh a squeeze. 'All this time?’

'We’ve known each other since we were kids,’ Bucky reminded at my open-mouthed expression. 'Not to mention all those quiet nights on missions, waiting to move or just on recon…

'…nothing else to do but share ideas about our missing piece, and everything we wanted to do with her,’ Steve said with a little wistful smile.

'Or to her,’ Bucky corrected with a wink.

'Unless you don’t want to,’ Steve added quickly. 'It doesn’t have to be like that if you don’t want it to be.’

'Yeah,’ Bucky agreed, turning more serious. 'You say the word, we’ll go rock-paper-scissors outside or-’

'Actually I was just going to ask if someone could pinch me,’ I managed, aware it came out on a slightly hysterical sort of pitch. 'Just to make sure I’m not dreaming or something.’

That got a pair of low chuckles that made my toes curl all on their own.

'That a yes?’ Bucky asked, trailing one metal finger up from my navel to my lips. I kissed it and then, very deliberately, sucked the cold tip into my mouth. He shifted slightly and cleared his throat. ’ _Damn_ , doll.’

Before I could think of a suitable retort Steve moved my legs and leaned right over to kiss me deeply before dragging his mouth down my chest to where the bottom of my shirt had ridden up. He planted another kiss on my stomach and then started working his way back up, with Bucky pulling the material away to expose more skin as he went.

The blouse flew off somewhere and I gasped outright when Steve fastened his lips over one nipple, giving a gentle bite and then soothing it with his tongue. Bucky gave a little chortle and started rolling the other between the thumb and forefinger of his flesh hand, bending down to kiss me at the same time.

'…oh dear god,’ I muttered, feeling like I was about to combust. I felt Steve smile against my skin and then he was moving southwards again, snapping the button on my jeans to pull everything below my waist down and off, leaving me entirely naked while still sprawled in Bucky’s lap on the couch. Then he sat up and yanked his t shirt off over his head before hauling me into a sitting position for another kiss. There was a rustle behind me and I felt Bucky’s bare chest against my back.

'Pants,’ I huffed when Steve broke off for air. 'Off. Both of you.’

'Yes, ma'am.’ He flashed a grin and reached for his belt. 'You heard the lady, Buck.’

'Way ahead of you, punk.’ Bucky pressed up against me again and on a whim I wriggled a bit, grinding against the obvious prominence of his cock against the small of my back. To my lasting delight he actually gave a little growl and grabbed both my breasts in his hands, leaning in to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the side of my throat. Steve plopped back down in front of me and pulled me in to capture my mouth in his again, so I was obliged to take some weight onto my knees or topple over completely.

With a grunt of minor protest Bucky moved so he was kneeling up behind me and ran both his hands down my spine to settle on my waist, making me shiver at the feeling. Then I felt him nudging at my inner thigh and shifted properly onto hands and knees, arching my back in pleasure as he slid into me.

'Jerk,’ Steve said with amused affection. 'We’re still on the damned couch – _oh god_!’

It was hard to giggle with my mouth around his cock but I sort of did anyway, bracing myself on one arm and using my other hand to caress what I couldn’t take in as Bucky began to pump his hips. The dual sensation of him riding me and Steve’s cock twitching between my lips was impossibly,  _insanely_  intoxicating; when Steve’s hands tangled into my hair and Bucky snuck his metallic hand down to tease between my legs I came apart in an instant with a frankly pornographic moan. That seemed to do it for them, too. Three hard thrusts later Bucky came with a low grunt and Steve made a small, strangled noise as he emptied down my throat.

We all sort of collapsed for a few moments and just lay there.

'I don’t suppose,’ I managed after a bit, 'One of you guys could get me a glass of water?’

Bucky started snickering but Steve sprang up and did just that, cupping my face in my hands to kiss me deeply once I’d drained it. I smiled against his lips. Steve followed by cold water followed by more Steve was a hell of a cocktail.

'You okay?’ he asked softly, concern lacing his gaze.

'Uh. Not okay. I’m good,’ I added hastily when he looked alarmed, 'I just don’t think there’s words for how…uh…okay I feel right now. Like,  _super_  okay.’

A guffaw from Bucky made me look over at him with mild reproach, but he just grinned back unashamedly.

'We screw the vocabulary out of you, doll?’

I threw a cushion at him, which just elicited more laughter before he shoved it aside and pulled me towards him so he could kiss down the back of my neck and nibble my earlobe.

'Let me up so I can use the bathroom, you maniac,’ I said, swatting ineffectually at him.

'Why?’ he asked, cupping my breasts again and tweaking both nipples with his thumbs. 'Not much point cleaning up when we’re just going to get you all dirty again.’

'Maybe we could move round two over to the actual  _bed_?’ Steve suggested dryly.

'You two are going to kill me,’ I complained as Bucky stood up and scooped me into his arms. 'I mean, not that I won’t die happy…’

'Damn right.’ Grinning now, Steve spun me away from him on the bed and started kissing up behind my ear. 'Hands and knees, sweetheart. My turn.’

Well, I wasn’t going to argue with  _that_ , although once I got into position and he was exploring the curve of my ass with both hands I looked up at Bucky with a grin of my own.

'So you sitting this one out, Barnes, or you going to give me a taste?’

Chuckling anew at that, he came to stand by the end of the bed, leaning down on one knee so he was at just the right height. I’d blown him before, of course, and in fairness we were a few skips and a jump ahead in several regards when it came to the physical side, but when Steve took hold of my hips and sank into me from behind I could have sworn it was at least twice as erotic to hear Bucky’s groan as my mouth enveloped his cock.

It took a little longer – the first round on the couch had taken the edge off for all of us – but still seemed like almost no time at all before I was arching my back and keening like a wild thing as Steve’s thrusts sped up. Bucky took my face in both hands and laced his fingers through my hair as he came, throwing his head back with a gasp. A heartbeat later Steve strained deeply into me one last time and I fell to pieces around him, clutching at Bucky’s thighs to ride out the waves of pleasure until they died down to echoes.

That seemed to have done it for everyone this time. I stumbled out to clean up a bit before practically falling back into the bed, hardly even registering as the two of them settled on either side of me with soft kisses and caresses. The comforter came up and thank god the compound’s beds were all super kings…I wriggled about a bit to get comfortable, winding up partially sprawled against Steve’s side while Bucky cuddled against my back with his arm around my waist.

'I love you,’ I somehow remembered to mumble. 'I love both of you… _so_  much.’

'We love you, doll,’ Bucky murmured into my ear.

'We both do,’ Steve affirmed, stroking his hand up and down my arm and then kissing my forehead. 'We’re all here now. All the pieces.’

'All the pieces,’ I agreed with a yawn. Then, ridiculously happy and content, I drifted off to sleep in the arms of both my boys; my soldiers. My soulmates.


End file.
